


A Worthwhile Partnership

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where sentinels and guides are known, a very different Jim and Blair are thrown together, and must fight against the odds to create a worthwhile partnership despite their apparent incompatibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Worthwhile Partnership

**Author's Note:**

> The Jim and Blair in this story are products of rather different backgrounds than as suggested in canon, particularly in Blair's case. I wanted to explore how their characters might react, interact and develop under different circumstances. I don't know if it worked, but it was fun to try!
> 
> Written for the Sentinel Big Bang 2014, this story, and its sequel, 'Still Worth It' were beautifully illustrated by the amazing stargatesg1971. To see the full colour version, follow the link at http://sentinelbigbang.com/2014bigbang/Proj-01/index.html

**_A Worthwhile Partnership_ ** **by Katef.**

**Part 1: A Guide sought:**

**Dr Eli Stoddard’s office, Rainier University, Cascade, WA:**

In one of the most coveted and prestigious offices in Hargrove Hall, the building which housed Rainier University’s Anthropology Department, the lone occupant sat at his wide, antique oak desk, poring avidly over an obviously well-read and treasured tome.  As the reader turned the page, his concentration was broken by the sunbeams which suddenly streamed through the tall windows behind him, illuminating the volume’s yellowed paper and throwing the desk furniture and other books and files cluttering the surface into unaccustomed relief.   Looking up, a wry grin tugging at his lips, he sat back for a moment and stretched his arms in front of him, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness caused by too much time spent at his studies.  It appeared that Cascade’s notoriously fickle weather was relenting for once, and as he looked out of the picture window across from him, he smiled to see that the cloud cover had rolled back to reveal blue skies and the welcome sunshine which bathed the landscaped grounds outside.  He chuckled as he imagined Cascade’s citizens emerging from their homes and offices to enjoy the rare warmth, facetiously comparing them to the tribal peoples and myriad creatures that inhabited the world’s remaining rainforests – creeping out from their make-shift shelters to take advantage of the break in the incessant downpours to forage, hunt and generally survive as best they could as they had for centuries past.

Shaking his head at such fanciful notions, he turned back to the book, only to be distracted again by the way the sunbeams highlighted the hand resting on the open page, unmercifully drawing his attention to the signs of premature aging and blemishes on the otherwise elegant appendage.  Placing both hands flat on the desk before him, his amiable expression hardened as he studied them objectively; noting the liver spots beginning to darken the thin, dry skin stretched tightly over brittle bones.   Because he really wasn’t that old.

Certainly his shock of white hair and weathered skin spoke of a life of active exploration, teaching and constant study, but the majority of the lines carved on his open but care-worn features were recent, and from another source.

Dr Eli Stoddard, renowned anthropologist and acknowledged expert in Sentinel lore, was dying.

As if to drive the point home, a sudden bolt of pain spiked deep within his gut, and he grimaced in resigned irritation, reaching for the bottle of pills in his pocket.  Filling a glass from the carafe of water beside him, he swallowed down two of the tablets.  He knew from bitter experience that he needed to act quickly if he was to keep the pain at bay long enough to function adequately for the remainder of his office hours, especially as he was expecting a visitor.  Breathing deeply, he forced himself to relax until the pain subsided again to bearable proportions, sighing in relief as the powerful medication kicked in.  His expression became rueful as he considered the inoperable cancer cells spreading relentlessly though his bowels.  He envisaged them as small but vicious predators, to be constantly held at bay until the day that his concentration finally lapsed, and they closed in for the kill.

And it wasn’t really for himself that he was most concerned.  He had a responsibility he couldn’t afford to ignore, a responsibility which would also affect his visitor, although the man didn’t know it yet.  But Eli was sure he would do the right thing once the situation was explained to him.  Eli just had to last long enough to hand over the reins...

Sighing again, but in contentment this time, he began to read the familiar words once more.

The object of the professor’s attention was a rare copy of a manuscript written by a 19th century British explorer, Sir Richard Burton.  _The Sentinels of Paraguay_ was a study of pre-civilised cultures; specifically the importance and reverence which the tribes’ people bestowed on certain gifted individuals.  These individuals; variously referred to as Sentinels, Watchmen or Guardians, were graced with enhanced senses.  Through natural genetic variation, they could have from one to five senses heightened to exceptional levels, those with all five senses being particularly prized.  Once they came ‘on-line,’ so to speak, usually through experiencing a period of prolonged isolation, they utilised their gifts to benefit the tribe as protectors and watchmen and so much more.  Able to hear and track game or approaching enemies from afar, detect advancing weather systems and impending natural threats, amongst other useful functions, they were in their turn guarded jealously within their own tribe.

Unfortunately for Burton, his monograph was generally disparaged and discredited by his peers, and eventually almost forgotten.  Those who cared to consider the phenomenon in later years concluded that there was no need for sentinels in modern society, so even if they still existed, the dormant genes would never manifest anyway.

However, in the latter half of the 20th century individuals with sentinel capability began to reappear and be recognised as such, and as the 21st century progressed, they became more and more commonplace on a global scale.

More enlightened academics and scientists such as Eli were convinced that it was because modern society actually had even more of the same needs and pressures that gave rise to sentinels in pre-civilised cultures.  The ‘urban jungle’ of popular conception was no myth.  Endlessly spreading conurbations where migrant populations tended to congregate in ethnic groups gave rise to gang rivalry and localised culture clashes such that there was a marked resurgence in those with heightened senses to act as their champions.  The same was also true on a national and international scale, and the opposing factions and governments in warring countries were quick to adopt and utilise sentinel talents in specialised units within the military.

And unfortunately there were also many criminal elements both at home and abroad who were eager to muscle in on the act, such that sentinels were by no means restricted to law enforcement and other services beneficial to society in general.

And by far the most problematical facet of the current situation was a marked dearth of guides.

As Eli was sadly aware, Burton had neglected to include an in-depth study of the sentinels’ partners beyond noting that each sentinel had a help-meet or companion who watched his or her back while they were using their senses.  He had apparently assumed that such helpers, or ‘guides’ as they were later known, were simply chosen at random, and had no specific qualities which made them suitable for the task.

However, in the ensuing years, once sentinels were once more relatively commonplace, scientists belatedly turned their attention to the study of guides, and quickly discovered that their limited knowledge was mostly based on misconception.

Although it had long been recognised that the most successful guides seemed to be individuals who were more empathic than most, i.e., ‘people persons’, rigorous testing found that these same individuals actually had a specific ‘guide’ gene just as important as the variation found in latent sentinels.   However, not only were they even rarer than sentinels, having never been nurtured or encouraged to come forward in the same way until relatively recently, but many potential guides were unwilling to tie themselves to such a one, since it was also clear that such bonds were usually for life.  It made no difference to a guide that he or she was prized and respected by a grateful society if it meant giving up one’s dreams in favour of supporting a sentinel.

The scarcity of willing guides ensured that those that were known and available were a valuable commodity, but there were other less savoury sources of procurement for those rich and powerful enough to pursue them, and Eli had had firsthand experience of some of them.

Sitting back in his chair, Eli glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost time for his visitor to arrive.  He knew the man would be punctual, as he was never anything but without good reason, but this time there would be more to discuss than usual, and for the first time, Eli felt a twinge of real trepidation as regards the potential repercussions of the upcoming meeting.

\-------------------------------

**Same morning, Cascade PD Major Crimes Unit bullpen:**

Detective Jim Ellison sat at his desk in the busy bullpen, trying to concentrate on the thick file before him.  A frown marred the chiselled features of his handsome face, and he unconsciously pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb as he continued to read.  Knowing that his constant low-grade headache was showing all the signs of blowing up into migraine proportions, he succumbed to temptation, and, unknowingly mimicking Eli Stoddard’s action across town, popped a couple of pills out of the bottle in his pants pocket, dry-swallowing them with a grimace of distaste.

Aware that he was being approached, he turned to grin tiredly up at the owner of the hand that squeezed his shoulder gently in offered comfort.

“Hey, Joel.  You need me for anything?”

The portly African American smiled down at him, but there was no mistaking the genuine concern in the warm eyes and broad, pleasant features.

“No, Jim, not yet, although I guess we’ll be summoned soon enough once the other agents get here.  I just wondered if you were OK.  Looks like you’ve got another headache?”

Appreciating the other man’s interest in his well-being, Jim’s lips quirked in a wry half-grin as he replied, “It’s OK, Joel, thanks for asking.  Just the usual you know.  Too much input all at once, but nothing I’m not used to.  I’ll be fine.” And he offered a reassuring smile in return, not wanting to worry his older colleague and friend unnecessarily.

Still looking unconvinced, the other man patted his shoulder again.  “Well, if you’re sure, Jim.  Better go and see when Simon wants us,” and with another nod and smile, he moved away to enter their captain’s office.

Watching his departing back, Jim smiled to himself, knowing that he had a good friend in Joel Taggart.  The older man had once been Captain of the Bomb Squad before a crisis of confidence made him transfer to Major Crimes, a move which benefited both him and the department.  A good man and tenacious detective, he was unswervingly loyal to his friends and colleagues, and stern but fair in his dealings with criminal elements.  You could want no better man to watch your back, and Jim was grateful to know him.

Turning back to the open file, Jim was relieved to find that his headache had loosened its grip slightly, so it looked like the potential crisis had been successfully averted once more.  Because that wasn’t always the case, as Jim knew to his cost.

Jim Ellison was an alpha sentinel, having all five senses enhanced to a high degree.  It had undoubtedly made him a force to be reckoned with both during his short career in the military, and now as a detective in Cascade PD, but as far as Jim was concerned, his so-called ‘gift’ was a double-edged sword.  Yes, certainly his senses, when functioning as well as possible, could make the difference in seeking out and identifying enough evidence to close a case.  However, when those same senses were spiking and out of control, his pain was intense, and the ever-present danger of zoning reared its ugly head.

The ‘zone-out’ factor was the most dangerous as far as sentinels were concerned, particularly if, like Jim, they had no guide to back them up.  Zones occurred when a sentinel concentrated so hard on one sense that he or she became oblivious of their surroundings, and therefore vulnerable to attack unless their guide was present to ground them by touch and voice.  And in situations such as stand-offs and firefights, such lapses could cause not only their own deaths, but potentially those of their colleagues or innocent bystanders also.  And Jim knew that he would never forgive himself if that were to happen on his watch.

Unfortunately, despite his potential ability, he had never found a guide.  Or at least, he had never found one that suited him amongst the few available, so he was forced to do as so many of his fellow sentinels did - rely on science and artificial methods and means to keep a measure of control.

Certainly, by following sensible guidelines as regards food, clothing and using sentinel-friendly natural products one could keep physical discomfort to a manageable level, but without a guide’s backup, those same senses could never be used to their full potential.  Instead, they had to be tightly controlled and dampened by medication, which in the general view was a criminal waste of a precious resource.

The constant search for compatible guides was therefore of paramount importance to those seeking to utilise sentinel abilities to their full extent, and that in itself opened the door to nefarious practices, and the opportunity to benefit from an extremely lucrative sideline as far as international crime and clandestine and/or illegal governments were concerned.  If suitable and willing guides couldn’t be found, then they could be bred, bought and sold for astronomical prices, and this dreadful trade was now the concern of law enforcement agencies both at home and abroad.

And Jim and his colleagues were about to become involved in an inter-agency task force formed to seek out, infiltrate and destroy one such pipeline known to exist on US soil, since there was a strong possibility that one of the more important destinations and distribution centres for the pitiful human cargo was based in Cascade itself.

As Jim continued to read and absorb the background information contained in the file, his anger and abhorrence grew exponentially as he imagined the dreadful conditions in which smuggled guides were kept.  Human trafficking, slavery and the sex trade were bad enough for the victims involved, but Jim well knew that the sensitive and empathic nature of guides would undoubtedly ensure that their suffering would be so much greater.  Frown deepening, his resolve hardened as his sympathy engaged on their behalf, and he knew he would do everything possible to play his part in shutting down at least this branch of the disgusting trade.   Even though he was not aware of any breeding or procurement programmes originating in the USA; that was not to say that such programmes did not exist.  And he and his fellow officers knew only too well that unscrupulous, rich and connected sentinels made good use of the black market opportunities to purchase ‘imported’ guides through global networks.

Sitting back in his seat for a moment, he checked his watch, aware that he had an appointment with Eli Stoddard shortly, and didn’t want to be late.  He had already cleared it with his captain, knowing that he should be back in plenty of time for the upcoming briefing, and was intrigued to discover what information Eli could provide, judging by the veiled hints his friend had offered when he had contacted Jim to arrange their visit....

\----------------------------------

**Shortly after, Eli Stoddard’s office, Hargrove Hall:**

At 10.45 am precisely, Jim knocked on Eli’s door, entering at the invitation issuing from within with a broad smile on his face.  Dr Stoddard was more than a friend, having been introduced to Jim when his senses had finally come fully on-line a few years ago.  As an expert on sentinel studies, the doctor had helped Jim enormously in both the understanding of his gift, and on how best to control it without access to a compatible guide, for which Jim would be eternally grateful.  As time went on, both men had found a great deal more in common despite their very different fields, and visits now were as much social as business.

However, pressures of work had prevented Jim from seeking out his friend and mentor for several months now, and he was hard put to disguise his shock at his first sight of Eli for far too long.

Although the other man wore an answering smile as he rose from his seat, hand outstretched in welcome, even though Jim’s senses were working on less than full capacity, he was easily able to detect the signs both external and internal of severe illness and debility in his friend.

Covering his dismay only with difficulty, he advanced into the room to take the proffered hand, responding cordially. “Eli!  Good to see you, my friend!  It’s been way too long, and I’m sorry for that.  It’s just that things have been pretty hectic at the PD since I transferred from Vice to MCU, and the case load has doubled recently.  But now I’m here, how are you doing?”

Chuckling knowingly, Eli replied, “Jim!  I know you can tell already that I’m not too good, but don’t worry too much on my behalf.  For the most part I’m quite content.  I just hate to cause my friends any unnecessary discomfort.

“But I do admit that I wanted to see you for a particular reason, my friend,” he continued more soberly.  “I honestly believe you’re doing well as far as the senses are concerned – at least, without access to a guide – but there is something I wish to discuss which may well have a bearing on both your work and your personal life.  It’s just very difficult to explain in this setting,” he added, looking around the office before meeting Jim’s inquisitive gaze once more.

“Would you care to come around to my house for supper tonight?  I think we would both be more comfortable there, and there’s someone I’d like you to meet.  Someone who could be of great help to you.”

Curiosity piqued even further by Eli’s cryptic comments, Jim found himself agreeing despite his internal disquiet.

“Yeah, OK, sure, Eli.  Sounds good, although I don’t want to put you out.  Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself, Jim,” Eli answered with a grin.  “Just yourself!  And now,” he continued, deliberately changing topic, “Tell me how you’re getting on.  Is there anything you’d like to revisit?”  And Jim resigned himself to waiting until the evening to find out more from his friend.

\--------------------------------

**That evening, on the way to Eli’s house:**

Jim eased through the diminishing traffic as he made his way to Eli’s house, which was situated in one of the more desirable suburbs of Cascade.  Although lacking the brash opulence of more recent developments, the fading gentility of the older area appealed to those who were more inclined to seek understated quality rather than the ‘in-your-face’ pretention offered by a MacMansion.  Nodding approvingly as he negotiated the broad boulevards, Jim reflected that this was the first time over the years that he had known Stoddard that he had been invited to the other man’s home.  He felt no offence at the oversight, since he hadn’t seen fit to invite Eli to his own loft apartment.  Their friendship was no less real because they didn’t interact outside of an office environment, and he was simply curious to see not only where Stoddard lived, but also learn what information he had to disclose.

A few minutes later, Jim pulled up in the driveway of a large, Victorian house, situated in an acre or so of reasonably well-tended but natural-looking grounds, covered in grassy areas bounded by a plethora of shrubs and perennial plants.   The overall impression was of colour and unforced bounty which complemented the slightly shabby but still impressive glory of the house itself.

Nodding to himself in appreciation, Jim climbed out of his elderly Jeep and approached the front door, unsurprised when it opened immediately to reveal his host.

“Jim!  Good to see you, son!  Come on in,” and Eli led his guest through a lofty vestibule lit by a large antique chandelier.  Tiled in black and white, and panelled in dark wood, it was a fitting entrance to a house of this size, and Jim grinned at his host.

“Very nice, Eli!  Very nice indeed.  How long have you lived here?”

“Ever since I got tenure at Rainier, which is longer than I like to contemplate,” Eli replied with a disarming shrug.  “It actually used to belong to my old tutor.  When he retired he went to live in Florida with his sister, and more or less gave the place to me.  Wanted someone to have it that appreciated it.  And I always have,” he added with a gentle smile, focus turned inward for a moment.

“Anyhow, I thought we’d be more comfortable in the library.  It’s my favourite room,” he continued, leading the way across the hallway to a panelled door.

Jim was immediately drawn to the large room, and looked around him with blatant admiration.  Despite its lofty ceiling and considerable floor area, it retained a comfortable cosiness due entirely to the way it was furnished.  Floor to ceiling bookcases lined all the walls which housed Eli’s vast collection of books and papers.  They were interspersed with display cabinets containing many of his artefacts gathered over the years.  A pair of huge sash windows in the far wall ensured that there was light enough, and a wood fire burned cheerfully in the large, ornate fireplace, around which were arranged comfortable overstuffed couches and armchairs in soft, worn leather.  The polished wood floors were partly covered with area rugs in traditional Indian and oriental designs, and occasional tables were dotted around bearing individual pieces of artwork.  One corner at the far end of the room housed Eli’s large desk, and plainly served as his office space, and Jim could imagine him sitting there, working on his latest paper and looking up every now and then to gather inspiration from the stunning view to be had from the window in front of him.

“This is a great room, Eli.  I’m impressed.  And envious!  And I can see why it would be your favourite.”

“Thank you, Jim.  Mind you, my second favourite room is the kitchen, so I thought we’d have supper in there if it’s OK with you.  The formal dining room’s much too impersonal.  Blair and I never use it.”

Assuming that Eli was referring to a housekeeper since he knew Eli had never married, Jim let the comment go without further thought.

“Sounds good to me, Eli.  So, what was it you wanted to discuss?  It sounded intriguing.”

Eli studied him thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said, “Take a seat, Jim.  Let’s have a drink, and get comfortable.  This may take some time.”

\--------------------------------

A short while later saw the two men ensconced before the fire, Jim nursing a cold beer while Eli sipped at a large single malt whiskey.  After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Eli set his glass down and fixed Jim with a serious look.

“I have quite a story for you, Jim, and for a while it may seem irrelevant to you.  Old news.  The musings of an old man!” and he grinned in self-deprecation. “But I hope you’ll bear with me, because I assure you there’s a point to my little history ‘lecture’.  Before we go in to dinner, how much do you know about the old Soviet bloc during the cold war?  Specifically, the military and related scientific programmes?”

Frowning in puzzlement, Jim replied thoughtfully, “Probably not as much as I should.  By the time I joined the military, the Iron Curtain had been down for some time.  Why?” and he cocked a quizzical eyebrow at his host.

Settling back in his seat, Eli was silent for a moment, then nodding brusquely, he began.

“I’m sure you already know that the old Soviet Union was pretty paranoid – enough to spend a high proportion of its resources on defence and the military?  Well, it may surprise you to know that the Soviets began to use sentinel and guide pairs far sooner than we did.  In fact, they had isolated the ‘guide gene’ long before western scientists thought to do so.  And they used the knowledge to develop testing and breeding programmes.”  Noting Jim’s look of distaste, he continued, “Yes, reminiscent of the Nazi’s Aryan breeding programmes isn’t it?  Needless to say, they had a stock of ready-made guides in the pipeline to replace those already identified and drafted into the military, although what has happened to them since is anybody’s guess.

“Anyhow, be that as it may, once the cold war ended, the state-run programmes were discontinued, the sites dismantled and the scientists involved were out of a job.  And that’s where the rising criminal classes and ‘entrepreneurs’ stepped in.

“Having worked in Vice, I know you’ve already crossed swords with the ‘Russian Mafia’, for want of a better word, so it won’t surprise you to know that it didn’t take long for powerful and greedy crime lords to spot a potential lucrative sideline.  With the unsettled state of the world now, what with vast numbers of migrant workers, refugees and otherwise displaced people, there are plenty of pickings for gangs involved in illicit human trafficking, whether it be as slave labour, prostitution or personal sex slaves.   And of all those poor victims, guides are both the most vulnerable, and the most valuable.  And by employing unscrupulous scientists, crime bosses have established their own procurement and testing programmes, often under the guise of legitimate establishments.  Are you with me so far, or is this old news?”

Expression cold and hard, Jim nodded stiffly.  “Yeah, Eli.  I do know a fair amount about human trafficking, and about the black market in guides, but I wasn’t aware of the full extent of the science and foreign money behind their procurement.  But how does that help me and my colleagues?  What we really need is a concrete example of one of these foreign enterprises, and then perhaps we have a chance to follow the links from the source to the purchasers over here.  Because I have to say that, if our politicians already have such knowledge, they’re keeping it to themselves.  I have a feeling that there are some powerful people involved.”

“And that’s where I think I can help, Jim.” Eli spoke quietly, a troubled expression deepening the lines on his haggard face.

“Let’s go and have our supper, and I’ll tell you another story.  One I’ve kept to myself for far too long.”

\------------------------------

Seated in Eli’s large, well-equipped if somewhat dated kitchen, Jim tucked in to a good helping of a delicious casserole, which he absently realised was both very tasty and well-suited to a sentinel palate.  However, he was unable to give it the attention it deserved, because he was too busy absorbing Eli’s continuing story.  Although Eli was covering a lot of old ground as far as Jim was concerned, he was able to curb his impatience at what seemed to be a lot of irrelevant detail, simply because he knew his old friend was not inclined to waffle for the sake of it, and undoubtedly had good reason for his apparently long-winded introduction.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“I need to tell you about an old friend of mine, alas, now deceased,” Eli began.  “Professor Aaron Levy.  He used to live in Leipzig which was in the old post-war East Germany.  His family had been there for many generations, and only left when the Nazi threat became too great.  But once the war was over, and the communist power began to wane also, Aaron returned and took a position teaching Anthropology and Archaeology at the university.  To cut a long story short, we became acquainted when I was invited to speak at a couple of international conferences, and he encouraged me to accompany him on several excavations in Europe and the Middle East.  We became firm friends, and he invited me to stay with him and his wife Martha on several occasions.

“While I was there, I met what I assumed was a foster child, because Aaron and his wife seemed to be too old to have had a child of their own of that age.  I became very fond of the little chap, and he seemed to take to me, and one day, Aaron took me aside and told me his story after I had promised him faithfully to keep his secret.

“One day, some years previously, Aaron and his wife had an unexpected visit from their niece.  Naomi was a flighty girl, always travelling, to the despair of her parents, and somewhat promiscuous.  She had become enamoured of the hippy era and lifestyle, and took it seriously.

“Anyhow, by the time she visited her Aunt and Uncle Levy, she was heavily pregnant, and unwilling to go home because she was sure her parents would make her give the baby up for adoption.

“On the advice of a colleague, Aaron persuaded her to go to a private clinic outside Leipzig for the birth.  It had a good reputation, being the sort of place where wealthier clients could send their errant daughters to ‘correct’ their little indiscretions – or have the babies adopted if the mothers wanted to carry them full-term.  All legal, if a little unsavoury.

“Anyhow, Naomi gave birth, but the delivery was difficult, and afterwards she was told that her baby was still-born.  She was shown a dead baby, and accepted the fact, although she was heart-broken, and left Leipzig as soon as she was fit enough to resume her travels.  And that was the last Aaron thought about it for several years.

“However, the colleague who had told him about the clinic came to him one day in a terrible state.  He claimed to be in danger from the local crime lord because he had inadvertently uncovered the truth behind the set-up, and he wanted to pass on the information to someone he trusted before trying to escape the country.  I should mention that he didn’t make it, and was found dead shortly after in suspicious circumstances, but it was believed that his secret had died with him.

“But that wasn’t the case, and this is what he told Aaron.  The clinic was the legitimate front for a behind-the-scenes state-of-the-art laboratory funded by the local Mafia on behalf of an international ring of slavers and drug lords.  They employed scientists like the ex-Soviets in order to perfect existing genetic testing techniques so that potential guides could be spotted even in the womb.  It has to be said that most of the mothers involved in the testing programme were the kidnapped victims of slavers who no one would miss, but opportunities like Naomi and other legitimate clients weren’t turned down.  If the baby was normal, it was simply given up for legal adoption.  If, however, it carried the guide gene, it was quickly removed and placed in a specially created facility resembling an ordinary orphanage where all the children were raised until they could be tested properly for their potential guiding ability; usually around five years of age.  According to Aaron’s colleague, the ‘successful’ guides were sold off for extortionate amounts to wealthy buyers, and the others either disposed of, or sold as sex toys or slave labour in the usual way.

“Needless to say, Aaron was horrified, and began to wonder if Naomi’s baby had actually survived to suffer the same fate.  Although it was horribly risky, he managed to track down one of the scientists via the university’s academic network, claiming to be willing to pay for a suitable child, implying that he wanted to groom it as a sex slave.  He was put in touch with the director of the ‘orphanage’, and arranged a visit to check out the goods, so to speak.  He knew the age of child he was seeking, but it was purely by chance he found the right one.

“After explaining what he was looking for, he persuaded the director, as one scientist to another, to let him look at the children’s files.  Although all the children had numbers rather than names, he used the few facts he had, like the baby’s birth date and likely blood type to pinpoint the most likely candidate.

“And there he was extraordinarily lucky.  The child he picked had just undergone the routine testing, and had failed to be rated on the ‘Guide Scale’ the scientists had devised.  He had therefore been rejected for sale as a guide, but luckily he was an extremely attractive child.  He escaped being euthanized and was to be sold as a child prostitute or sex slave instead.  It would be a much less lucrative sale, but at a price which Aaron could afford.

“Suffice it to say, Aaron managed to purchase the boy, and took him home, complete with falsified paperwork good enough to pass as legal adoption papers. To be absolutely sure, at some point he had a friend at the university do an anonymous match of DNA from hair follicles retrieved from a hair brush Naomi had left at their house and a sample from the child.  However, he never told Naomi or the rest of his family that he had recovered her child, for a very good reason.

“Apart from the fact that he and Martha adored the boy, Aaron soon discovered that he had failed the ‘guide tests’ because he was actually too talented.  The readings were so far off the standard scale that the scientists who tested him couldn’t accept what they were seeing and assumed he was a reject.

“Anyhow, Aaron and Martha raised the boy as their own, but kept his ability secret for his own good.  It was only because I knew what to look for that I realised his potential, but would never have betrayed Aaron’s trust.  Until, that was, Aaron contacted me again.”

Here Eli broke off his tale to give Jim time to consider what he had learned so far, and wasn’t surprised when his guest got straight to the point.

“OK, Eli.  I guess I’m correct in assuming that this clinic still exists, and should be the subject of investigation.  It might even turn out to be the sort of link we’ve been looking for.  But why do I get the feeling that there’s even more to it than that?  And how will its exposure affect your friend?”

“Well, that’s just it, Jim.  When their adopted son turned twelve, Martha died suddenly from a stroke.  Aaron was devastated, and basically gave up.  He wasn’t in the best of health himself, and he wanted to die, Jim.  He missed her so much!  But first he wanted to ensure the boy’s safety, so he contacted me.  He asked me to take the boy home with me, and made me promise to keep him safe and out of sight.  He was convinced that he was on a database somewhere along with all the other buyers so that the gang bosses could monitor them and their ‘purchases’ – and use the information for blackmail and extortion if necessary.  And he needed to know his son was safe and under the radar before he could die in peace.

“I agreed.  It took some doing, but I obtained a false passport, and I brought him home.  And he’s been with me ever since.”

Eli smiled ruefully at the look of stunned amazement on Jim’s face.  He could see that his friend was struggling to come to terms with his bombshell, but trusted in the man’s integrity both as a cop and a sentinel.

“Before I continue, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he murmured.  Leaving the table for a moment, he crossed to an intercom on the wall.  Meeting Jim’s perplexed and somewhat apprehensive gaze, he spoke into it, tone gentle and persuasive.  “Blair?  Can you come down, son?  There’s someone here to see you.  It’s OK,” he added reassuringly.  “We can trust him, I promise.”

Returning to the table, he sat down again, watching Jim carefully as his guest suddenly sat up straighter, attention fully focussed on the door.

When the door opened to reveal a small figure hovering anxiously on the threshold, Jim’s jaw dropped in stupefaction.  This was no ‘housekeeper’!  Blair was, in Jim’s eyes, exquisite.  He was of average height, probably no more than 5’6” or 5’7” but slender and compact, in perfect proportion.  He appeared to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, and beautiful in a purely masculine way.  Long, dark auburn curls brushed his shoulders, and Jim knew that when lit by the sun, the highlights would enhance the rich colour even more.

Beneath the smooth, broad brow, Blair’s eyes were huge and deep blue in colour, fringed by obscenely long eyelashes.  He had a small, neat nose, high cheek bones, strong jaw and the lushest, most sinful mouth Jim had seen in years, if ever.  All in all, Jim thoroughly approved of the vision, if it wasn’t for the nervous, deer-in-the-headlights look in the wide eyes.

And he was completely astounded at his instinctive reaction to the boy, wanting only to sooth away his fears, and to protect him from any and all threat of harm.

Realising abruptly that his stare was making the boy even more nervous, he consciously softened his expression and offered a welcoming smile instead.  Taking his cue from that, and from Eli’s beckoning gesture, Blair slipped quietly into the room, and moved quickly to stand behind Eli’s chair, looking at Jim over his living protective barrier.

Reaching a hand up over his shoulder to take one of Blair’s, Eli glanced back at his charge with an encouraging smile before facing Jim once more.

“Jim, this is Blair.  Aaron and Martha’s son, but who I think of as my own.  You are one of only a handful of people I trust who have been told about him, and I know I can count on your discretion.

“Blair, son, this is an old friend of mine, Detective Jim Ellison.  He’s a good man, and you can trust him, I promise.  And he’s also a sentinel--”

His words were interrupted by Blair’s shocked gasp and both Jim and Eli were momentarily stunned when the boy’s already pale face drained dramatically of all colour.  Knowing instantly that Blair was about to pass out in a dead faint, Jim leapt to his feet and reached the boy’s side just in time to catch the slight figure as it crumpled into his arms.  Scooping him up with an arm around the surprisingly wide shoulders, and the other behind Blair’s knees, Jim followed Eli as directed back into the library where he laid his burden down on one of the sofas.   He was peripherally aware that, though very slender, the kid was no featherweight, suggesting that maturity would see him develop into a sturdy and well-built young man.

And Jim realised that he had every intention of watching that development from close quarters.

Squatting down by Blair’s feet while Eli patted the boy’s face with a soothing hand, Jim offered his friend a wry grin.

“So, now I know the other reason for this invitation, Eli.  It’s funny, but I could almost feel his presence even before he entered the room.  It was as if, despite the residual effect of my last dose of dampeners, my senses seemed to lock on to him.  He really is a guide, isn’t he?  A strong one.”

Eli returned his grin with a sad one of his own.  “That’s right, Jim.  And I was fairly certain he would be a match for you.  I just needed to be sure.

“Because I want you to look after him when I’m gone, Jim.  You already know I’m dying, and I don’t have long.  As your guide, he’ll have your protection, and your care, and he needs it, Jim.  He says he doesn’t remember much about the orphanage, and, if that’s true, then I’m very glad.  He loved Aaron and Martha, though, and I believe he loves me.  And it’ll be so hard on him to lose another father figure! 

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I have every faith in you, and I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t believe that you two belong together.

“I hope you can forgive me for the burden I’m placing on you, but I hope that in time you’ll see why I kept him secret for so long.  A guide this talented is a target for the very slavers he was rescued from.  Keep him safe, Jim, please!”

And despite his tumultuous thoughts and emotions, Jim didn’t even consider denying him.

\-------------------------------------

**Later that night, Jim’s apartment, #307, 852 Prospect:**

Jim sat in front of the TV, sprawled comfortably in the sofa with a half-finished beer in one hand.  To an observer, he would have appeared to be relaxed and untroubled, idly following the televised re-play of the last Jags match.  However, far from concentrating on the game, his mind was actually working overtime as he contemplated everything that had happened this evening, and he fought to get both his tumbling thoughts and unruly emotions under control.

Once Blair had roused from his faint, red-faced in embarrassment, but still plainly shocked and scared as hell, Jim had taken his leave as soon as he could.  He realised that the kid was in no condition to prolong their first meeting, even though he was surprised at how hard it was to make himself leave the house without his guide.  Because he knew for sure that Blair was his.  The instant connection had been so strong – so very different from any feeling he had experienced before upon meeting a guide.  Any guide.  It was as if the sentinel in him, the primal core of his being, cried out to touch and imprint the young man and carry him off to his territory.  In fact, it had taken Jim the cop and ‘civilised’ man almost all the resolve and control of which he was still capable to say his farewells and turn his back on Blair and Eli, and he was ruefully aware that the primitive compulsion had taken him completely by surprise.

Well, shit, fuck, and damn it to Hell and back!  He had finally found his true guide, and it was a kid with so much baggage Jim couldn’t see how in hell they could ever have a working partnership.  Sure, he had learned just before he left Eli that Blair wasn’t actually as young as he looked.  He had just turned seventeen, in fact.  But he had lived such a strange and sheltered existence for the last few years at least that it was a given that he was going to have serious problems reintegrating into society.  And Jeez, how was he expected to cope with guiding a cop?

And that was another thing.  From what Eli had told him, Blair had arrived in Cascade five years ago, aged twelve.  And that was around the time when Jim’s senses came fully on-line.  Coincidence?  Hardly!  And Jim wondered whether he ought to feel more resentful than he did that Eli hadn’t introduced him to Blair earlier.  He had worked with the man on and off ever since he joined the PD, aware that his senses could manifest at any moment, and, like most other latent sentinels, wanting to get a head start on learning what to expect if and when it happened.  And when it did happen, following a period of solitary surveillance during a case, he had worked with Stoddard on a regular basis, totally unaware that Eli had the answer to his bonding problems sitting at home alone.

But having seen Blair, he found he couldn’t maintain his resentment towards Eli.  He understood how Eli must have felt, because he felt the same way, maybe even more so.  Over-protective, to be sure; fully aware and deeply concerned that should he have been exposed prematurely to Cascade society, the kid would have attracted attention instantly, drawing unbonded sentinels to him like bees to a honey pot.  And it didn’t bear thinking of what avaricious criminals or even shadowy and clandestine government departments would like to make of him.  A rare and unbonded guide of such prodigious talent – and beauty, let it be said - was a prize indeed.  He was certainly a prime target for kidnapping, the very idea of anyone else laying a hand on Blair was enough to make Jim’s blood boil, and he ground his teeth together hard enough to make the muscles in his jaw jump and twitch in stress.

Determinedly reining in his troublesome and distracting imagination, Jim forced himself to calm down and consider the position clearly and rationally, realising that no good would come of his going off at half-cock, blinded by unnecessary emotions.  He could almost hear his old drill instructor growling in his recalcitrant cadet’s ear, “Don’t let your anger take you out of the game, lad!”  Once more assuming the cold and calculating persona that had served him so well in his short but successful military career, and which made him such an effective cop, Jim made his plans.

He would report to his captain, Simon Banks, first thing in the morning, and would give him the information regarding the clinic as supplied by Eli, with that man’s blessing.  And what the Task Force’s department heads decided to do with it would be up to them.  Any investigation would have to rely on international cooperation anyway, which could take time to negotiate, even with existing Interpol connections.

But there would be no mention of Blair yet.  His existence would remain a closely-guarded secret until Jim – and the kid himself – were agreed on the next step in their relationship.  There was no doubt whatsoever in Jim’s mind that there would be a relationship, but he was prepared to bide his time, and pray that Eli lived long enough for Jim to get to know his future guide in familiar surroundings.  That Blair might not actually want to bond had occurred to Jim, but he pushed the notion aside.  They would cross that bridge when they got to it, although Jim sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t have to force the issue.  Because they would bond, no question about it.

\------------------------------------

**Same evening, Eli’s house:**

Blair and Eli sat quietly side by side on the sofa facing the cheerful, dancing flames in the fireplace.  Blair was nursing a cup of hot chocolate; a gesture of comfort that Eli had thrust into his hands as soon as Detective Ellison – Jim – had left.  Blair was truly grateful for the consideration, but was still far too shaken to look Eli in the face yet.  Deeply embarrassed and ashamed at his behaviour, he dreaded seeing disdain or mockery in his mentor’s eyes.

However, he knew he would have to speak eventually, so he took a deep, shuddering breath, and consciously tried to relax his tense body as he gathered his courage.  Because of his distraction, he had failed to notice that Eli had been casting worried side-long glances at him, worried at his charge’s unaccustomed silence, and angry at himself for his part in upsetting the boy so greatly.  Finally, Blair sighed again, and put his now empty cup down on the coffee table.  He peeked up to meet Eli’s gaze, his eyes huge, shy and troubled as he nervously studied the older man’s expression.  His relief was almost overwhelming when all he saw was Eli’s normal warmth and caring, although on this occasion tinged with concern.

“I’m sorry, Eli – Dad,” he murmured, voice deeper than usual due to his emotional turmoil.  “I feel so stupid, swooning like a damsel in distress.  I don’t know what you must think of me.  Or Detective Ellison, for that matter.  He must have been disgusted!” and his face twisted in a grimace of pure misery.

Smiling softly, relieved that Blair was talking at last, Eli, patted his knee with a comforting hand.  “Oh, Blair, my boy!  He’ll have thought nothing of the kind, I promise!  And I don’t blame you one bit.  It was entirely my fault – a thoughtless and clumsy way of bringing you both together, even though I believed I was doing the right thing.  I should have been much more circumspect – more tactful.  I’m sorry, Blair.”

Blair regarded him steadily for several minutes, plainly thinking things through.  Finally he spoke again, and Eli wasn’t surprised at his next question.

“Why, Dad?  Why did you wait so long?  I mean, you said that Detective Ellison was an old friend, and you obviously knew he was a sentinel.  Why didn’t you tell me before?  You wouldn’t have introduced us if you didn’t want us to bond.  I realise that.  It’s just that...I don’t know...a little warning might have been nice!” and he chuckled wryly, although Eli was well aware that any derision was entirely self-directed.

“It’s hard to explain, Blair, but you deserve to hear my reasons, at least inasmuch as I understand them myself,” and Eli’s eyes took on a faraway expression for a few minutes while he pulled his thoughts together before speaking.  Finally, he twisted sideways in his seat so he could look directly into Blair’s questioning eyes and began.

“I have to say that I’m not sorry I kept you secret at first.  You had just lost your foster parents, whom I know you loved dearly, and then you were virtually smuggled into a distant and unfamiliar country like a piece of contraband, in the company of a man you barely knew.  It goes without saying that you were deeply traumatised, understandably so, and you were in no state to be pushed into an immediate bond with a sentinel, however genetically compatible.

“And I knew that Aaron and Martha had kept your secret, and encouraged you to hide your ability.  So it seemed to me that I should follow their example, at least until you were old enough to make your own decisions as to what you wanted to make of your life.

“But as time went on, conditions in the outside world didn’t seem to improve as far as I could see.  The threat of kidnapping and forced bonding seemed to be as strong as ever, and, to be honest, you were such a delight to teach.  So intelligent and eager to learn.  As you are still.  I loved to have you here; studying with me and those few friends and fellow academics I could trust to interact with you and expand your education.  You never fail to delight, Blair,” and he smiled warmly as he took one of Blair’s hands in both his own.

“And I suppose it became habit.  And I became a selfish old man, keeping you here to myself, telling myself that it was for your own good.  And I’m so sorry for that.  In retrospect I can see that it was wrong to keep you so isolated – so cut off from normal, everyday life.  A young person should have the chance to grow and hone their social skills.  Learn how to interact with their peers.  But I couldn’t see how else I could keep you safe.  Aaron was convinced you could still be in danger if the scientists at the clinic ever realised their mistake.  And I knew I wasn’t ready to hand you over into Jim Ellison’s safe-keeping however much I trusted him.  You were so very young and impressionable.

“But you know, and I know, that I don’t have too much longer, and I have to put things right while I still have time.  I need to know that you’ll be taken care of, and the best person to do that will be your own sentinel.  I just hope and pray that you’ll like him.  I only want for you to be happy, Blair.  Happy and safe.”

As Eli had been talking, Blair’s expressive eyes had filled with tears.  Yes, he knew Eli was ill, but he hadn’t wanted to think about it – wanting to hide away from the knowledge like a small child in denial.  But now he couldn’t avoid it anymore, and it was breaking his heart.

Tears now spilling down his face unchecked, Blair threw his arms around Eli, finally accepting the man’s frailty and the way his once-solid frame had become bony and fragile-seeming.  He felt as if he was coming apart, his life disintegrating before his eyes again as his hard-won self-confidence withered away, and he didn’t know how to deal.  They clung together while Blair desperately tried to control his sobs; hurting so much, but aware that Eli was hurting so much more.  Long minutes later, Blair eventually pulled away a little, wiping at his wet face with the handkerchief Eli held out to him.  Raising pain-filled eyes to meet Eli’s sad but affectionate gaze, Blair reached out and took both Eli’s hands in his, holding as tightly as he dared.

Swallowing around the lump of emotion clogging his throat, he croaked out, “I forgive you, Eli.  How could I not?  You’ve been everything to me, and I don’t want you to die!  I understand why I’ve had to stay here – I do!  And I don’t mind, honestly.  I’ve never really minded...” but he couldn’t fail to see the faintly disbelieving grin Eli sent him.

“OK, perhaps I did – do - sometimes,” he added sheepishly.  “But I always appreciated our secret trips out, and I do love this house – your house.  I want to stay, Eli...” and his voice trailed off, becoming tiny and childlike as he looked down at their clasped hands, his fear and uncertainty almost palpable.

Aware of Blair’s fundamental insecurity – to which he was fully entitled, given his past – Eli desperately sought words of comfort and reassurance, even as he knew they would serve no useful purpose other than to calm his young protégé in the here and now.

“Oh Blair, son, I know you do.  Or at least you feel that way right now.  And it’s quite understandable you should be apprehensive at another major change in your life.  You’ve already lost people dear to you, and have been forced to adhere to rules and restrictions just to stay safe. You’ve never really had a childhood, Blair, and I’m so sorry for that also.

“But, grateful as I am that you say you’ve forgiven me, I can do nothing to prevent what has to come.  I’m just so sorry I have to leave you.  You’re the son I never had, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have had the chance to enjoy you for a few wonderful years.  I’m a very lucky man.”

Fighting determinedly to stop the tears from falling yet again, Blair held Eli’s gaze as he spoke, trying to convey his total sincerity.

“And I’m lucky too, Eli.  Although I don’t really remember the orphanage much, and Dad never talked about it, I know something bad was about to happen to me before he rescued me and took me home.  He and Martha – Mom – were good to me, and I miss them so much.  But then you came and rescued me too, and I love you like another Dad.

“Hey, when you think about it, I’ve had three ‘Dads’, haven’t I?  I mean, I’ll never know who my natural father was, but I’ve been lucky enough to have had two more since.  Two wonderful Dads.  And I love you both.  I’ll never forget either of you, or what you did for me, and I just want to spend every minute we’ve got left together.”

And they fell into each other’s arms again, sharing tears of reassuring love and companionship until the lateness of the hour, their emotional exhaustion and Eli’s failing body forced them apart and up to their beds.   

\----------------------------------

**Part 2: A Guide found:**

**Three weeks later, MCU bullpen:**

Jim sat at his computer, a frown of concentration on his face as he laboriously typed out the report from his most recent arrest.  This was a facet of the boring grunt work he could do without, but he accepted it as part and parcel of being a cop, and there was no way he’d give his job up without very good reason.  Like most sentinels, whether bonded or not, he had an in-built compulsion to protect the tribe, and the police force provided one way to accomplish that aim.  With no false modesty involved, he knew he was a good detective, with or without fully functioning senses.  And it just so happened that during the last few weeks, those same senses were functioning much better, thank you very much, although he had yet to disclose the reason why, either to his captain or his colleagues.  As he saved the report and pressed ‘print’, he smiled to himself as he thought about the past couple of weeks, and the visits he had made whenever possible to Eli’s house, getting acquainted with his new guide.

The visits were necessarily relatively brief and unstructured due to Jim’s heavy workload, because despite a noticeable lack of recent activity on the Task Force front, there was still more than enough everyday crime around to keep Cascade’s finest hard at work.  And truth be told, it was also due to Eli’s limited available time, filled as it was with increasingly regular doctor’s appointments, enforced bed rest and the office hours at Rainier that he was still loath to give up.  Nevertheless, Jim was glad to spend every moment he could with Blair, gently encouraging the young man to open up to him, and also basking in the fact that even a few hours spent in his company worked better than any medication when it came to controlling his senses.  And he was well aware that, once they bonded fully, he would have no problem using his gifts to their maximum capacity.

In the meantime, however, he would honour Eli’s wishes and keep Blair’s existence secret, wanting to allow the youngster as much time as possible to get used to the idea of living and working with Jim because for sure the drastic change in his life was going to hit Blair very hard.  And it was coming soon enough, Jim knew, as Eli had told him only last night that the latest prognosis suggested that he had no more than six months to live.

Jim returned to his desk with his printed report, intending to check it over before signing it off and putting it in his ‘out tray’ for Captain Banks’ attention.  He sat for a few minutes, ostensibly reading whilst actually his thoughts were turned inwards, considering his progress so far with his young guide.

The kid was a complex mix of innocence and naivety tempered with bitter experience.  Despite the seclusion of the last few years, or perhaps because of it, he had learned far too much about the dark side of human nature – of lust and greed – but still retained a refreshing hopefulness and belief in the fundamental good in everyone.  And although the cynic in Jim knew it was inevitable that such innocence would eventually be stripped away, for Blair’s sake he hoped it would be some time in coming.

He read and studied voraciously, and when encouraged by Eli, was a passionate, intelligent and compelling conversationalist, although he remained shy and diffident when faced with Jim one-to-one.  Fluent in English and German, he had a working knowledge of French and Spanish, and a good grounding in basic core subjects, since Aaron and Martha had ensured that he had received regular schooling until their deaths.  The added informal teaching he had received from Eli and his trusted fellow academics in the intervening years meant that he was more than capable of testing for and embarking upon an undergraduate programme at Rainier should the opportunity arise, and Jim was well aware that it was both Blair and Eli’s fond hope that such an eventuality might come to pass in due course.

He was also earnest and eager to please, touchingly intent on doing his best for both Eli and Jim in terms of guiding his prospective sentinel even though his efforts were hampered by anxiety and a marked lack of self-confidence.   But Jim surprised himself at his own patience with his jittery new companion.  He understood how hard it was for Blair to put aside the habit of a lifetime and actually use the gifts he had been forced to repress since he was five years old.  And despite his lack of formal training, both Jim and Eli were awed at the range and depth of his raw ability.

He seemed to know instinctively what to do to pull Jim out of a zone when the sentinel deliberately allowed himself to let go, and he was fully cognisant of the theoretical side of caring for a sentinel and managing his environment.  But all three of them were well aware that theory only went so far, and the partnership would only work to its full potential once physical bonding had occurred and they were living together in a permanent relationship.

And right now, that was a major sticking point.

As far as Jim was concerned, Blair was far too young and innocent to be subjected to the full sexual bond, although he had to admit that he was extremely attracted to the lovely young man.  Sure, Jim knew that they could achieve a valid and effective working bond by means of the sentinel imprinting the guide thoroughly with all his senses, and it was a fact that some pairs never progressed beyond that point by choice.   But it was also true that the deepest and strongest bonds involved sex, and there was no way Jim would push for that until Blair was ready, if indeed he ever was.

In the meantime, he would keep working with Blair, gradually getting him used to the idea of being imprinted at least, as it would ensure that the kid was ‘off the market’ as far as other unbonded sentinels were concerned.  That in itself would be a relief for both of them, and thereafter nature could take its course.

Just then, a voice from behind him broke his reverie abruptly.  “Hey, Jimbo!  Penny for them, mate!  You’re looking like the cat that swallowed the canary!”

Megan Connor, the most recent arrival in Major Crimes, thumped him none-too-gently on the shoulder.  A tall, striking brunette, the Australian Inspector from New South Wales was in Cascade on an officer exchange programme, and had already proved to be an asset to the department.  Intelligent, fit and eminently capable of looking after herself, she was a good person to watch your back, but until recently, Jim could barely stand to be in the same room with her, let alone have her as his partner.  For some reason they rubbed each other up the wrong way, so that, although she had low-grade guide capability, they sniped and bickered like schoolkids, much to Simon Banks’ disgust.

On the other hand, over the last few weeks Jim had had noticeably more tolerance, both towards her and to his fellow MCU colleagues, a fact that intrigued them all when they cared to discuss it amongst themselves.  And it appeared that Megan had taken it upon herself to get to the bottom of the habitual loner’s change of heart.

Well aware of her less-than-subtle machinations, Jim offered a sardonic grin as he replied, “Just glad to have closed the Madson case, Connor.  Nothing wrong with that, I hope?”  Over her shoulder he could see two of his other colleagues nudging each other and watching the exchange with interest.

The two junior detectives and partners couldn’t have been more different, although they worked together very successfully.  Henri ‘H’ Brown was an ebullient African American with a penchant for wearing outlandish Hawaiian shirts and a questionable taste in humour, whilst his dapper partner, Brian Rafe, always dressed impeccably, earning himself the nickname of ‘Mr GQ’.   Both now stood and made their way over to join Jim and Megan, making no effort to disguise their curiosity.

“Yo, Jimbo!  You want to come to Barney’s after work for a couple celebratory beers, then?  You did good sniffing out Madson’s drug stash.  How ‘bout spreading the cheer?” and H slapped him on the other shoulder while Rafe grinned cheerfully at his partner’s antics.

This time Jim treated them all to a real smile, appreciating the genuinely friendly motivation behind the offer.

“Sorry, guys.  Much as I’d like to, I’ll have to take a rain check.  I’ve got other plans for tonight.”

“Hot date, Jimbo?  Who’s the lucky lady?” Megan sniggered, eyebrow waggling suggestively.

And this time, Jim decided he may as well tell the truth, if not the whole truth.  “No lady, Connor, sad to say.  I’m visiting Eli Stoddard.  Remember him?  The Sentinel Studies expert from Rainier?”

When Rafe and H nodded in the affirmative, he continued more soberly, “Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you, he’s not in the best of health.  And he helped me a lot when I first joined the PD, especially after I came on-line, so I want to see how he’s doing.  Maybe another time, huh?”

“Fair enough, Jimbo.  Give him our best, OK?” said H, his tone sympathetic.  “Yeah.  Tell him to get well soon, OK?” Rafe concurred, while Megan squeezed his shoulder again, gently this time.

“Thanks guys, will do,” and Jim turned back to his report, grateful to have averted more cross-questioning.

However, before he could settle down to work once again, a loud command issued from the direction of Simon Banks’ office.  “Ellison!  My office.  Now!” and with a rueful glance at his openly inquisitive colleagues, Jim stood again with a feigned sigh, the report in his hand, since he might as deliver it in person.

\----------------------------------

When Jim entered the office, he took the seat indicated by his boss, nodding companionably to Joel, who was already seated.  He could tell immediately that both Joel and Simon had something unpleasant to impart, so he sat back and waited patiently for the captain to begin. Although not intentionally stalling for time, Simon still rose from his desk and crossed to his personal coffee machine, pouring himself a mug and offering one to his visitors.  Joel accepted, but Jim declined, because sometimes the exotic blends provided by Simon’s cousin were most definitely not to sentinel taste, and he could do without the distraction right now.

Finally seated behind his desk again, Simon stared at an open file in front of him, then looked up to meet Jim’s quizzical gaze, a ferocious scowl on his face.  Jim was aware that the expression wasn’t directed at him personally, but began to feel a frisson of unease about what he was about to hear.

“OK, Jim, Joel, it’s like this.  I’m giving you both an advance run-down of what’s been going on with the Task Force, as MCU’s official representatives.  Captains Sullivan and Anderson will no doubt be doing the same for their own reps from Vice and Homicide before the next main briefing.  And the FBI will do what the fibbies will do, and we’ll find out in their own good time,” he added sarcastically.

“The thing is, as I’m sure you’re already aware, the whole joint project is getting nowhere fast.  After all the promising hints and information from several well-known and trusted snitches, suddenly all sources seem to have dried up.  Not just yours, but everyone’s.  It’s as if someone or something has put the fear of God into each and every potential informant, and they’ve all gone to ground.  And your guess is as good as mine as to where the intimidation is coming from,” he growled, and Jim was left with a strong impression that Simon had his own opinions on that topic, and wasn’t happy with any of them.

“What about the foreign connection, sir?  Did that information about the Leipzig clinic pan out?” Jim asked, although he could guess from his boss’ sour grimace that there was bad news on that front also.

“Sorry, Jim.  That trail went cold a long time ago, I’m afraid.  Although even if you’d been told about it earlier, we probably couldn’t have used it back then.  International relations weren’t as good a while back, and we couldn’t rely on cooperation, willing or otherwise.

“No, sad to say this time we received a response very quickly from the local police.  Although they have absolutely no doubt that the main protagonists in the smuggling ring are still active, they have almost certainly relocated to other sites, possibly in Rumania or Armenia or some such.  There’s every likelihood that the network might even extend to the Middle East and Arab states.  Who knows?  Anywhere where there’s the money and the motivation. 

“Anyhow, apparently the clinic moved to new custom built premises in Leipzig, and is exactly what it claims to be, with no alleged ‘research facility’ attached.  The old property was converted to high-end retirement apartments for wealthy locals.

“And as for the orphanage, it burned down mysteriously at around the same time.  There were only a few children there at the time, none of whom were potential guides, so they just got adopted in the usual way.  And that’s it.”  And he offered Jim a sympathetic half-smile.

Absorbing the information, Jim found he wasn’t surprised at the news.  Disappointed, certainly, but realistically he knew it had been a long shot at best.  Although in retrospect he might wish that Eli had told him about it years ago, it was likely that the criminal masterminds behind such an enterprise would already have had plans in place in the event that they needed to bail, and Aaron’s death and Blair’s disappearance may possibly have provided the final incentive to do just that.   

It would undoubtedly hit Eli hard, though, because Jim was sure the man would feel guilty for keeping the information to himself for so long, even if his intentions were good.

Meeting Simon’s assessing look, Jim grinned reluctantly.  “It’s OK, sir.  I kind of guessed it was too old of a lead to do anything with, but it was worth a shot.  Dr Stoddard had his reasons for withholding his information until now, but I think you’re right, and it wouldn’t have made much difference anyway even if we’d known sooner.  So, what now, sir?”

However, before Simon could reply, Jim’s cell phone rang, and with an apologetic glance at the other men, Jim pulled it out of his pants pocket and checked the caller ID.  And was instantly alarmed to see that it was Eli’s number – or at least that of the cell phone he had given Blair to use in case of an emergency.

“I’m sorry, sir.  I have to take this...” and he was up out of his seat and exiting the office, leaving a momentarily speechless and astounded Simon staring at his departing back.

Seeing the deeply shocked expression on his friend’s face as he listened to the call, Joel placed a gentle but restraining hand on Simon’s arm, distracting him from bellowing at his wayward subordinate.

“Don’t, Simon,” he murmured.  “There’s something very wrong there.  Jim wouldn’t act so rudely if it wasn’t for some good reason.  Give him a few minutes.”

Sure enough, as soon as he terminated the call, Jim quickly peered around the office door, but without entering.  “I’m sorry sir, but I have to go.  Now.  I’ll explain everything as soon as I can, but I don’t have time...” and he was off across the bullpen, barely pausing to grab his jacket as he left a trail of astonished looks and worried eyes following his retreat.

\-------------------------------------

Making his way down to the parking garage as quickly as possible, Jim replayed the upsetting conversation word for word again in his head, his need for urgency reaching alarming proportions.

“J. J. Jim?  Is that you?   P. P. please...can you help me?  Jim?”  The young voice sounded panicked and breathless, and Jim didn’t need sentinel hearing to detect the sounds of sniffles and tears behind the plaintive request.

“Yeah, it’s me, Blair.  What’s up, kiddo?  What do you need?”

“Please, Jim.  It’s...it’s Eli.  H. h. he’s dead Jim.  Oh God, I don’t know what to do!” and Jim’s chest constricted in sympathy at the despairing cry.

“Whoa, babe!  Take a deep breath.  Try and calm down, OK?  I’m coming to you, kiddo.  Just try and tell me what happened.  Where are you now?”

“I’m at the hospital.  I. I... Eli collapsed this morning.  He just clutched at his chest and fell!  I. I tried to revive him, I swear, Jim!  But he wouldn’t wake up.  I called 911, and the ambulance came, and they tried too, Jim.  They really did.  But they said it was no good.  A. a. and they put him in the ambulance and took us to the hospital.  The doctor came out and talked to me, but they won’t let me in to see him yet.  And I don’t know what to do!” and the heart-breaking words tailed off into a wail of soul-deep hurt.

 “OK, Blair.  Listen to me.  What hospital?  Where are you?”

“Uh um, Cascade General.  The ER unit....”

“OK, Blair.  Hang in there, buddy, I’m on my way.  Twenty minutes, OK?  Thirty tops and I’ll be there.  Just stay put and wait for me, and I’ll take care of everything, OK?”

“O. O. OK, Jim.  Thank you.  Thank you so much.  I’ll be here,” and Blair terminated the call, leaving Jim with a desperate desire to teleport instantly to the distraught young man’s side.

Once in his Jeep, Jim slammed the light onto the roof and sped off in full emergency mode, uncaring if it wasn’t exactly official.  His guide’s pain was enough reason as far as he was concerned, and he was in no mood to deal with uncooperative traffic or traffic cops for that matter.  As he drove, he ground his teeth together in frustration and impatience.

Dammit to hell!  Why now?  Why so soon?  The moderate and reasonable part of him knew that this was by far the most merciful way out for Eli.  A sudden heart attack with no protracted and painful lingering; but it was so hard on Blair.  Jim had hoped that Eli might have survived the few more months he’d been expected to have; time in which Blair could have become a little more reconciled to their parting.

Then again, would it have been fair on either of them once Eli had been reduced to permanent bed-rest, his bodily functions failing day by day even though his mind remained as sharp as ever?  For sure Blair would have done his best to care for his beloved mentor, but how hard would that have been on a sensitive and gentle teen?

And Jim sped up even more at that train of thought.  Because he knew only too well how much Blair must be suffering right now.  A hospital emergency room was no place for an unbonded guide, who was at the mercy of his newly-awakened empathy. 

But not for much longer, Jim swore to himself.  Once he had Blair in his arms, he was never letting go.  The young man would never be alone again for as long as Jim lived.

\----------------------------------

**Shortly after, Cascade General Hospital’s ER:**

Pulling up abruptly in the nearest empty parking bay, Jim flipped down his sun visor to display his police permit, uncaring as to whether it protected him from getting a parking ticket or not.  He raced through the automatic doors to the ER unit; senses already focussed on the thundering heartbeat and muffled sobs issuing from the waiting area within.  In less than a minute he was in the room, pausing momentarily while he took stock of the most important person in the world to him.

Blair was huddled in a chair in the furthest corner, the picture of misery.  His legs were tucked under him while his arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, and he rocked slightly backwards and forwards, down-turned face hidden by his long hair.  To sentinel-sensitive nostrils he reeked of pain and fear, and when he looked up to meet Jim’s concerned gaze, his face was white and tear-streaked, eyes red-rimmed and swollen from too much crying.  Quickly striding across the room, Jim simply held out his arms and Blair immediately uncoiled from the chair and threw himself into the comforting embrace, tears starting anew as he buried his face in Jim’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist, holding on for dear life. 

Totally ignoring the looks they were getting from the other occupants in the room, Jim cuddled the trembling body close, murmuring comforting nonsense words until the harsh sobs began to abate, and Blair began to calm down a little.

Once he was satisfied that the worst of the emotional storm was over for the moment at least, Jim pushed the small figure away slightly, but still kept a supportive arm wrapped firmly around the shaking shoulders.

“Come on, kiddo.  Let’s sit down here, and you can tell me what’s been happening.  Once we’ve got things sorted out as much as we can, I’m taking you home with me.  I don’t think you should be at home by yourself right now, OK?”

Sniffing noisily, Blair blew his nose on the handful of tissues Jim grabbed from a box on a nearby table, and took several deep breaths, clearly trying to pull himself together.  Finally he spoke, his voice low and roughened by his tears, shame saturating every word.

“I’m sorry, Jim.  I don’t mean to be such a wuss.  Thank you for coming for me.  I...I don’t know what I’d do otherwise.  I’m such a useless waste of space!”

“And that’s quite enough of that, Chief!” Jim replied firmly, giving his companion a little shake to get his point across.  “You’ve had a great shock and you’re reacting accordingly.  Anyone in your position would be the same.  But you’re not alone, kiddo.  You don’t have to deal with anything right now.  Just concentrate on yourself, and let me do the rest.  How’s your head, anyway?  I can tell you’re in some pain.”

“It hurts some,” came the shy response, “But it’s better now you’re here.  You’re shielding me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yes, I am, Chief.  It’s a sentinel and guide thing,” Jim answered with a gentle smile, pleased when it had the required effect and Blair’s lips twitched in the tiniest of grins.

“Now, did the doctor tell you where Eli is?  And have you been allowed to see him since you called me?”  He wasn’t surprised when Blair shook his head, since it wasn’t that long ago anyway, but he was relieved.  Although he knew Blair needed to see his surrogate Dad again to say his goodbyes, Jim was glad he didn’t have to do it alone.

“OK, then.  You just sit here for a minute, and I’ll go see what I can find out.  I’ll be back as quickly as I can, I promise.”  And he was gratified to see a slight stiffening in the youngster’s back and shoulders as he did his best to pull himself together a little for his sentinel, expression taking on a touching hint of determination.  Smiling in approbation, Jim patted his shoulder gently.  “Attaboy, Chief.  Be back soon,” and he left the room, searching to left and right for some assistance.

Spotting a harassed-looking young doctor who was just emerging from one of the cubicles, Jim apologised for delaying him, but quickly explained the situation.  He stressed the fact that he was responsible for Blair now, and had the requisite authorisation to act on his behalf, thankful that Eli had expedited the process only last week for just such an eventuality.

Nodding briskly, his expression sympathetic, the doctor replied, “OK, Mr – er – Detective Ellison.  Dr Stoddard is in the end cubicle, awaiting transportation down to the morgue.  If his son would like to see him briefly, I’m sure no one’s going to complain, as long as you’ll be with him?”

“Thanks, doctor.  I appreciate it.  And no, I won’t leave him alone,” and Jim turned back to the waiting room to gather up his young charge.

As they approached the cubicle, Jim forged ahead a little, offering Blair a reassuring smile as he stuck his head between the curtains to check out the scene within.  Thankfully, someone had gone to the trouble of laying out Eli’s body tidily, so that he simply appeared to be sleeping, covered from throat to ankle with a light sheet.  Relieved, he turned back to meet Blair’s questioning gaze.

“It’s OK, Blair.  Just checking we had the right cubicle,” he said, not wanting to reveal that the main reason for his brief look was to make sure Eli’s condition was no more distressing than necessary for Blair’s viewing.

If Blair saw through his obfuscation, he made no comment, simply grateful for Jim’s support and so thankful that he didn’t have to do this alone.  Fixing his eyes on the curtain, he straightened his spine and raised his hand to pull it back a little, but not before sending Jim a look of gratitude when the big man placed a supportive hand in the small of his back.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Blair entered the cubicle and crossed to the side of the gurney.  His eyes were soft with love as he gazed for a moment on the peaceful face of his beloved mentor.  With a tender smile and gentle hand he stroked the wide brow, memorising for the last time the strong features now relaxed in peace, the lines of pain and illness eased in repose.

“Oh, Eli!  I love you so much,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry you had to go so soon, but I understand, I do.  I’m glad for you that you aren’t suffering any more, and I’m so grateful for all your care.  And for finding my sentinel for me.  I couldn’t have been luckier.  Say hello to Aaron and Martha for me?  Tell them I love them too.  Goodbye, Eli.  Dad...” and his voice wavered as his fortitude crumbled once again.  Turning away from the gurney, tears welling up anew, he was gathered up into Jim’s waiting arms, his near-silent agony more painful to behold than any loud and ostentatious outpouring of grief.

Tucking the shaking body tightly and protectively into his side, Jim carefully but firmly steered his guide down the corridor and out of the hospital, knowing that Blair had had enough and desperately needed to rest and recover.  And where better to do that than in his sentinel’s territory?

\----------------------------------

**That afternoon, the loft:**

Jim pottered around the kitchen, cleaning the already pristine counters and cupboards more for something to keep him occupied rather than because he thought they needed it.  While he worked, he used his senses to monitor Blair, who was finally sleeping soundly up in his loft bedroom.  Jim had had no ulterior motive when he persuaded the young man to try and get some sleep in his own bed.  The other small room under the stairs was temporarily full of boxes and camping equipment awaiting removal to the locked storage area in the building’s basement, and Jim wanted his guest to have a more comfortable and private place to crash than on his sofa.  Jim intended to use it himself that night.

Deciding to watch TV for a while, Jim grabbed a beer and settled down, flicking through the channels until he found a Jags replay to watch, the sound turned down to its lowest so as not to disturb Blair’s much-needed rest.  Mind only half on the basketball, he thought back over the last couple of hours.

\---------------------------------

The ride back to the loft from the hospital had been quiet. Tears over with for the moment, Blair was introspective and distracted, and Jim had respected his need for silence, simply concentrating on driving, and unobtrusively observing his passenger for any signs of a further breakdown.

When he had pulled up outside 852 Prospect, Blair had roused a little; his innate curiosity coming to the fore.  He had looked around him with interest, and offered Jim a shy smile.  “Thank you for letting me come home with you, Jim.  I...I didn’t really want to go back home – I mean, to Eli’s house – by myself.  But I guess I’ll have to go back soon, won’t I?  To sort things out?”

“It’s no problem, Chief.  There was no way I was going to let you stay alone tonight, and I’ll help you sort out whatever you need to do.  There’s no hurry for today.  You need something to eat, and somewhere to sleep, and everything else can be dealt with tomorrow, OK?”

Jim was pleased when Blair offered no argument, but was a little concerned at Blair’s disturbing ambivalence when he had spoken of ‘going home’, only to correct it immediately to ‘Eli’s house’.  Surely the kid wasn’t so insecure that he thought that the years spent in Eli’s care were only temporary?  But then again, he had been uprooted dramatically twice before, so perhaps he had never really understood the concept of permanence.  In Blair’s case, it would seem that adoptive parents, however kind, had not provided the requisite sense of security he had craved like close blood relations might have done.  But as a product of a less-than-perfect childhood himself despite knowing both his parents, Jim figured he had no room to judge.  He would just have to make certain that Blair realised that, once bonded, even if not fully for the time being, he had a permanent home with Jim for as long as he needed it.

As they had climbed the stairs to #307, foregoing the unreliable elevator, Jim had kept his arm around Blair’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness, and the way the smaller man leaned into him.

“So, Chief.  What would you like to eat?  And don’t say you’re not hungry!” he added with a smirk when it appeared Blair was going to say just that.  “Sentinel here, kiddo, and I can tell you’re running on empty.  But I don’t want to force-feed you, so how about soup?  I’ve got some great home-made chicken soup in the freezer that my old housekeeper, Sally, sent over.  Fancy trying some of that?”

And Blair didn’t have the heart to throw Jim’s kindness back in his face, even though his stomach felt too queasy to eat.  “Thanks, Jim.  Sounds good,” and he smiled up at the bigger man, touched by his obvious concern.

Satisfied by Blair’s response, even though he appreciated that the youngster was less than enthused at the idea of eating, Jim opened the door to his apartment, and ushered the smaller man inside.

Blair gazed around, taking in the apartment’s interior.  Despite his emotional turmoil, he was still acutely aware of his surroundings, and his interest was piqued by this first sight of his sentinel’s home.  Because he truly believed Jim _was_ his sentinel.  He couldn’t bear to consider the alternative.

The loft was immaculately clean, spacious and well furnished, although it seemed to be completely lacking in any personal touches.  He was aware that sentinels tended to be sparing in their indulgence in anything that could disturb their senses unnecessarily, but Jim’s apartment seemed to be almost clinical in its austerity.  But the man himself provided enough human comfort for the hurting youngster, so he was content to give himself up to Jim’s care, for one night, at least.

Jim watched his guide’s reactions with interest, ruefully aware that the Spartan interior of his loft wouldn’t compare too favourably with the slightly untidy cosiness of Eli’s library-cum-den and kitchen, and although he hadn’t seen the rest of the house, he suspected that the other rooms would be the same, except for the formal reception rooms.

Nevertheless, he was pleased when Blair whispered timidly, “It’s nice, Jim.  Nice and spacious.  And you have a balcony!  Can you see the marina and the harbour from here?”

“Yep, sure can, Chief.  It’s one of the reasons I bought the place when I got out of the army.  Eli would have said it was because a sentinel likes to look out over his territory,” and he could have bitten his tongue when the unthinking reference caused Blair to duck his head again, a brief tremor of grief shaking his frame.

“I’m sorry, babe.  That was thoughtless of me,” and he tipped Blair’s face up to meet his apologetic gaze with a finger under the boy’s chin.

Smiling bravely, Blair replied, “It’s OK, Jim.  Just shook me a bit is all.  I do want to keep talking about Eli, honest.  I think it’s wrong to make as if the dead are a taboo subject.  It’s talking about them that keeps them alive in our memories.  It’s just a bit hard yet, is all...” and his glance slid sideways as he took a shaky breath.

Impressed by his guide’s perspicacity despite his youth, Jim couldn’t help but pull him in for another hug as he murmured, “You’re so right, kiddo.  Now, come on, and I’ll give you the guided tour.”  And, crisis averted for the time being, he did just that.

\---------------------------------------

While Jim had busied himself defrosting and heating up the promised chicken soup, Blair had gratefully taken him up on his offer of a hot shower, and a change of clothes.  Since he had left home this morning with nothing but the clothes he was wearing, his cell phone and the keys to Eli’s house, Jim had sorted out some of his own clothes as a temporary measure, and had been unable to completely restrain his grin at the vision that exited the bathroom.  Blair presented a charming picture, looking for all the world like a small child dressing up in his father’s clothes.  He was wearing a pair of Jim’s smallest sweatpants, rolled up several times at the cuffs, and draw-string pulled as tight as it would go to hold them up around his narrow waist and hips, an extra-large tee and Jim’s Cascade PD sweatshirt.  The tee and sweatshirt swamped him, and gave him an endearingly waif-like appearance, and Jim was slightly astonished at the depth of affection the sight engendered in him.  Containing his grin with difficulty, he said, “Come on over, Chief, and sit down.  Soup’s ready.  Do you want OJ or milk with it?  Or coffee?  I had some tea somewhere, but it’s pretty old, so it’s probably not a good bet.”  He knew he was rambling a bit, but sought to distract Blair by keeping things as mundane as possible.

“Milk’s fine, thank you Jim,” came the soft reply.  “Thanks for the shower and the clothes, man.  I was feeling a bit grungy,” and he offered Jim a shy grin as he took his seat at the table.

To his surprise, despite his earlier queasiness, the chicken soup smelled delicious, and tasted as good as it smelled, and he set to with a will.  Looking on in approval, Jim ate his own meal, pleased when Blair finished up his own portion.

“Want some more, kiddo?  There’s plenty left.”

Pushing his bowl away, Blair smiled up at him, his demeanour decidedly improved.  “No, thanks all the same, Jim.  That was really good, though.  Did you say it was home-made?”

“Yeah.  Sally was our old housekeeper – pretty much brought me and my brother up after Mom left.  She’s still looking after my father, and likes to keep in touch with me when she can.  And send over culinary offerings, which are always gratefully received.  You should meet her sometime.”

“I’d like that, Jim,” replied Blair, conscious that Jim hadn’t suggested meeting his father also, but not confident enough to call him on it.  It wasn’t his business after all.

Wanting to keep the conversation as light as possible, but also needing to clear up one or two points, Jim steered him over to the sofa and got him settled comfortably before sitting beside him, not close enough to crowd him, but twisting sideways so he could monitor Blair’s reactions.

“So, Chief, if you don’t mind me asking, why ‘Sandburg’?  Not that it’s not a good name, but I was just kind of surprised when I saw your passport.  Care to share?”  He didn’t really want to put unnecessary pressure on Blair, but he wanted to know for future reference what Blair’s preferred name was.  And he needed to know for another reason also, but one he wanted to discuss a little later.

Staring at his hands for a moment, Blair took a moment to organise his thoughts, knowing that Jim had a right to any information with which Blair could supply him.  Finally raising his head, he met Jim’s kind but enquiring gaze, and began.

“Well, when Aaron adopted me, I only had a number.  I mean, because all of us ‘stolen’ kids were officially registered by the clinic as orphans – foundlings really, parentage unknown.  To satisfy the authorities, you know?  And to keep any real parents or cops from snooping around their guide breeding and trafficking operations.  Because it didn’t really matter about having a name, since whoever bought us, for whatever purpose, would probably have chosen another one anyway, if they could be bothered.

“Anyway, I know Eli told you how Aaron found me, and although I know he was forced to pay quite a lot of money for me, the adoption papers were accepted as legitimate.  And because I’d already failed the ‘guide’ test, he and Martha thought it would be safer for me to take their surname, Levy.  I think ‘Blair’ was one of the names my natural mother Naomi had toyed with when she stayed with them, and Martha liked it, so it stuck,” he mused, slightly off-subject, but said with a wistfulness that effectively quashed any impatience Jim may have had.

Anyhow, shaking himself briefly, Blair got back on track.  “So I really do have some genuine paperwork, at least back in Leipzig.  And as long as I was careful never to reveal my guide ability or my actual genetic relationship to Naomi or her uncle Aaron, I was safe enough being raised as an ordinary, adopted kid.

“But then Martha died, and Aaron was hit so hard.  I know he cared very much for me – enough to want me to be kept safe – but he couldn’t live without Martha.  So he contacted Eli, who was so cool, you know?  He said he was happy to take me, but was worried that, with Aaron and Martha dead, the traffickers might come for me again, especially if they wanted to re-test me.  So somehow he managed to obtain a fake passport, but one good enough to get me in to America under an assumed name.  And he was reading some of Carl Sandburg’s poetry at the time.  He asked me if I’d like to be called Sandburg, and I think I was probably too upset right then to do anything but agree, so I became Blair Sandburg.  It wasn’t as if he could legally adopt me over here either, so I couldn’t become Blair Stoddard even if I wanted to.  He believed – we _both_ believed – I had to stay hidden.  So I did...” and his voiced tailed off into contemplative silence as the ramifications of his concealed existence began to hit home.

Truth be told, Jim was well aware that, under normal circumstances Blair would be right to be worried, since for the last five years he had basically been an illegal immigrant.  And that in itself would have created all sorts of problems and make it almost impossible for Jim to do as Eli requested, and officially take over responsibility for the teen.  But the fact that Blair was a guide actually made all the difference, and Jim was glad of the opportunity to explain the position to his young guest.

“Look, kiddo, I know you’ve just had an ‘ah-ha’ moment, and you’re probably wondering right now what the authorities are going to do with you once they know of your existence.  But as long as it’s truly what you want, I can put your mind at rest.  You OK to talk for a bit longer?” this because Blair was beginning to look decidedly wilted as the day’s events and his tumultuous emotions caught up with him.

Determination warring with fatigue on Blair’s pale face, the youngster nodded his agreement anyway.  “Yes, Jim.  I’m OK, really.  And I think I’d sleep better anyhow if you have something good to tell me,” and he smiled shyly, eyes lighting up with a touch of real pleasure when Jim gently ruffled his curls.

“OK, then, here goes – and as soon as we’re done, it’s bed for you, OK?  Anyway, it’s like this, Chief.  Even though you’re an ‘illegal’, so to speak, the Sentinel and Guide regulations in the US can override the courts as long as we’re bonded.  A sentinel – or guide for that matter, if the roles were reversed - can apply for guardianship of his or her partner where necessary to protect the pairing.  I know we’re not bonded, kiddo – yet – but I hope you don’t mind that Eli and I made out that we were so we could get the official paperwork started for me to take care of you.  That was only last week, by the way, but thank the gods we completed it in time.  I’m sorry we didn’t tell you straight away, Blair, but both of us wanted to break it to you gently to give you as long as possible to get used to the idea of living with me.  Eli arranged it with his lawyer so that on his death, the responsibility for your welfare transfers immediately to me.  He wanted that for you, kiddo.  He wanted to guarantee your security.

“Now, I’m not trying to force you, Chief.  Even if you don’t ever want to complete the bond with me, as long as you’re happy to maintain the act, you’re safe under my protection.  But having said that, I’d be honoured if you did decide to bond with me in time.  I want you as my guide, Blair.  Officially.

“But, in the meantime, you don’t have to worry about being deported, kiddo, and you are entitled to be granted citizenship as my guide.  OK so far?”  And he was overjoyed at Blair’s ecstatic response.

Throwing his arms around Jim’s neck, Blair began to cry again, but this time tears of relief, joy and love.  He clung tightly for long minutes, then finally pushed back to look into Jim’s eyes.  Although wet, his face was radiant, the huge blue eyes fairly glowing with adoration and hope.  “Oh Jim, yes!  Yes, I do want to be your guide for real.  Thank you so much for wanting me.  I. I. I mean, I don’t know how good I’ll be at first, working with you, I mean, but I’ll keep learning, I swear.  And...and...I think I’d like to have the full bond – the sexual one...if you can show me how...” and he blushed deep red as he ducked his head in shy embarrassment, his brief show of courage deserting him.

Cupping the heated face in gentle hands, Jim raised Blair’s head again, the relief in his own expression almost palpable.  “That’s great, Chief – Blair.  And thank _you_ for agreeing to bond with me.  And I truly appreciate your offer of the full bond, baby, but I’m not going to push you yet.  I don’t want to take advantage of you while you’re still upset and hurting.  And you’re still very young, Chief.  But we can certainly complete the imprinting, if you’re up for it,” he hurried on when Blair’s face fell in disappointment and mortification.  “We’re already nearly there, kiddo.  What we have already is as good as many pairs have.  I mean, your empathy is online now, and I can shield you.  And my senses have been so much better since we met.  After all, we’ve already pretty much taken care of touch, smell, hearing and sight.  It only needs taste to complete the full set, and the superficial bond will be set.  You up for it?”  And his smile widened as Blair nodded determinedly, trust shining from his eyes.

Very slowly, not wanting scare the younger man, Jim lowered his face to Blair’s, and touched his lips to the soft, lush mouth.  The skin was silky smooth, and Jim was instantly addicted to the feel of it.  Raising his head, he monitored Blair’s reaction, thrilled to note the shy pleasure and happiness colouring the expressive features.  Cocking his eyebrow in a tacit request, at Blair’s enthusiastic nod, he lowered his face again, this time gently licking the beautiful lips, which parted timidly for him.  Controlling his urge to plunder the sweet cavern, Jim kept his kiss gentle, intruding just enough to catalogue the enticing flavour before pulling away again with marked reluctance.  And as he did, they both experienced an intense burst of wonderment and a comforting mutual feeling of rightness and compatibility as the imprinting was completed, and the working bond was set.

They gazed happily into each other’s eyes for long minutes, needing no words to convey their pleasure and sense of achievement, until Blair suddenly surprised himself with a jaw-cracking yawn.  Laughing joyously at his new guide’s fetching blush, Jim hugged him for a moment before pulling Blair to his feet.

“Time for bed, Guide!” he ordered, tone gentle and affectionate.  And Blair’s smile was wide and happy as he replied cheekily, “Aye aye, my Sentinel!”

\-------------------------------------

Taking another pull at his beer, Jim smiled lazily in contentment as he heard the soft susurration of his guide’s sleeping breaths, and the steady beating of his heart.   Already secure in the knowledge that he could safely use his senses whilst grounded by Blair’s presence, he idly glanced out of the balcony windows, taking immense pleasure in cataloguing the individual feathers on a gull flying over the distant marina. 

However, his slightly smug mood vanished abruptly as he considered the one occurrence that had spoiled an otherwise momentous afternoon.

Once Blair was settled upstairs in Jim’s bed, and had fallen quickly into a deep and healing sleep, Jim had quietly moved out onto the balcony to call in to the office, knowing that he owed his boss an explanation for running out as he had.  He hadn’t been looking forward to it, but although he hadn’t expected Simon to be sweetness and light, he also hadn’t expected to have received such an angry and negative response either.  For sure he hadn’t been in the unit long enough to be able to call Banks a friend, but the other man’s words had cut deep nonetheless.

“What do you mean, you’ve bonded?  You go flying out of here like your pants are on fire, you don’t answer your cell or your home phone for hours, and then you have the gall to tell me you had to go rescue some kid!  Some kid _guide_ you’ve known about for weeks and couldn’t be bothered to tell me about?  What the fuck am I supposed to do with you now, Ellison?  Fine, so you can use your senses properly now.  But what use is that to me?  You sure as shit can’t take an untrained kid out in the field with you.  Jesus, Ellison!  It’s a fucking disaster!” Banks’ voice had risen in volume as his diatribe continued, until Jim was forced to hold the receiver well away from his ear, wincing at the final bellow.

And although Jim would have loved to give in to his own fury, and answer in kind, he controlled himself with an effort, and assumed the icy calm persona that had served him well on numerous other occasions.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, sir. And it wasn’t my intention to go behind your back.  I had good reason to keep my guide’s existence secret until now, but circumstances have changed.  If you’ll give me a chance to explain in full, I’m happy to do so.  Sir.”

“You bet you will, _Detective!”_ came the now equally frigid response.  “I’ll be round at your place as soon as I finish up here this afternoon.  And you’d better be ready to let me meet this guide of yours so we can see what can be made of this mess!” and Banks had slammed the phone down before Jim could utter another word.  So now he waited.  Waited for his guide to wake up so he could tell him of Simon Banks’ impending visit, whilst hoping against hope that the other man didn’t cause Blair any more pain than he could bear in an already fraught day.

Because if he did, Jim had absolutely no doubt that he would throw the man out on his ear if he posed any sort of threat to his guide.  The sentinel in him could do no less.

\------------------------------------

**Part 3: A Guide bonded and claimed:**

**Following morning, the loft:**

It was a tired-looking and rumpled Blair who stumbled downstairs to use the bathroom.  Jim paused in his breakfast preparation for a moment to stare at the closed bathroom door in concern, trying not to use his senses too much to monitor the kid.  Blair was entitled to some privacy, even if the over-protective sentinel in Jim demanded that he listen in.  The young guide had had a troubled night, disturbed by dark dreams of Eli’s death made worse by anxiety caused by Simon Banks’ disruptive visit the previous evening.  In the end, after having to go up several times in response to Blair’s recurring nightmares, Jim had climbed into bed with him, simply to hold and comfort the distressed young man, after which they both finally managed to get a few hours’ untroubled sleep.

Turning his attention back to preparing the eggs and toast he hoped to persuade Blair to eat, he waited more or less patiently for his guide to emerge from the bathroom.

\-------------------------

In the bathroom, Blair used the commode, then washed his hands and face, trying to drive away the worst of his exhaustion.  The face that stared back at him from the mirror looked haggard, the eyes still reddened from all the crying he had done yesterday, and ringed with the bruised-looking marks of fatigue and distress which stood out starkly against his pale skin.  He was deeply grateful for Jim’s solicitous attitude towards him, particularly when the big man had held him in his arms during the night, but felt silly and ashamed of his own behaviour.  He was mortified at how he had broken down in front of Jim’s boss, certain that he had confirmed the man’s impression that Blair was no more than an emotional and demanding child.  However, he quickly shut down that train of thought for now, because Jim deserved better of him than more tears and depression.  Taking a few deep breaths, he straightened his shoulders and exited the bathroom, a determinedly positive expression plastered across his face.   After all, even Banks’ disagreeable comments couldn’t negate the delicious glow of security and protection he had felt after Jim’s imprinting of him, and he smiled a little at the pleasant recollection.  Yes, he freely admitted that he loved his sentinel already, and was pretty sure he was in love with Jim the man also.  Or if not yet, he certainly soon would be.

“Morning, Jim.  Sorry to be so late.  Have I overslept too much?”

“No, Chief.  No problem.  As long as we get in to the office sometime this morning, that’s all I ask.  And if Simon doesn’t like it, he’ll just have to put up with it.  And you needed some quality sleep, kiddo, so don’t worry about it.  Sit down, as breakfast’s ready.  Eggs and toast OK for you?”

“Yes, thanks, Jim.  Smells great.  Can I do anything to help?”

“Just eat, and that’ll do me,” Jim replied with a grin.  “But you can help with the clear up afterwards, OK?”  And he was rewarded by a bright smile which went a long way towards dissipating the marks of care sullying his guide’s lovely features.

Breakfast over and cleanup done, Blair felt an unwelcome return of his habitual diffidence as he psyched himself up to ask Jim for a favour.

“Um, Jim?  Is it OK to drop by Eli’s house on the way?  I mean, I should get a change of clothes...” and his words tailed off as he looked down at the crumpled borrowed sweats he had slept in.

“Sure, Chief.  I was going to suggest that anyway,” Jim replied with a grin.  “I wouldn’t have made you turn up at the PD in my old duds.  And we have to go see Eli’s – and your – lawyer also.  But we need to get a bit of a move on now, so if you’ll grab your coat and shoes, we’ll be on our way.”

And a very relieved Blair smiled happily up at him as he willingly complied with Jim’s request.

\----------------------------------

It was a quiet and introspective Blair who sat in the passenger seat as Jim drove towards the PD much later that morning, although he did his best not to appear too anxious, as he didn’t want to worry his companion any more than he could help.  He was well aware that the big cop was continuously checking him out with his senses – an instinctive reaction in a sentinel – so he concentrated on keeping his breathing calm and regular, even if he knew he couldn’t do much about the racing of his heart as he considered the events of the day so far.  Because it had already proved to be pretty stressful, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

It had hit Blair far harder than he had expected when Jim had driven up to his – Eli’s – house.  Even though the man had been dead less than twenty four hours, already the place seemed to have taken on a vaguely deserted quality.  Although Blair’s common sense told him that it was only his fertile imagination sparked by his emotional fragility, he was still extraordinarily thankful to have Jim’s steadying presence at his side to keep the depressing shadows at bay.  He had taken as little time as possible sorting out a change of clothes, not yet up to giving the house interior more than a cursory glance before making his escape; immensely relieved when Jim had wordlessly taken him into a warm hug before driving away.

Respecting Blair’s silence for a few minutes, eventually Jim had squeezed his knee gently before saying, “You OK, babe?  Are you up to seeing the lawyer now?  If you can bear it, it would be best if we can get as much sorted out as possible straight away before tackling Banks and the PD.  I called in while you were changing, and left a message with Joel to say that we’d be in later since Simon wasn’t available.  If it makes you feel any better, Joel was very sympathetic, and told me to tell you he’s looking forward to meeting you.  He’s a good man, Chief, and he’ll help you as much as he can.”

Determinedly shaking off his dismal air, Blair forced a smile as he replied almost cheerfully, although he knew the effort sounded weak even to his own ears, and wouldn’t have fooled a sentinel for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jim.  You’re right.  I should get as much done as I can for Eli’s sake.  And I’d like to meet your friend Joel.  He sounds nice.”

Admiring Blair’s brave attempt at normality and appreciating the young man’s determination not to trouble Jim unduly even if it wasn’t expected of him, Jim simply smiled back and nodded agreeably in response, turning his attention back to the road as he drove on to meet with Eli’s lawyer.

\----------------------------

In keeping with what he would have expected from Stoddard’s chosen legal representative, Jim ushered Blair into an older, comfortably furnished building which housed one of Cascade’s oldest and most respected law firms.  Not for Eli one of the ultra-modern chrome and glass high-end offices populated by sharply dressed – and sharp-witted – ‘legal eagles.’  Instead his lawyer, Graham Guildford, of Guildford, Guildford and Meyers, was an old friend and contemporary, having studied Law at Rainier at the same time as Eli was specialising in Anthropology.  And it was plain to see, when Guildford showed them into his own office, that he was genuinely upset at the death of his friend.

Although Jim had met him a couple of times before while he and Eli were thrashing out the details of his guardianship of Blair, this was Blair’s first encounter with Guildford, and Jim was pleased to see how the older man made every effort to put the youngster at ease under impossibly sad circumstances.

After offering his sincere condolences and enquiring if they wanted any refreshments, he settled down behind his desk and began by addressing Blair directly, a courtesy that the young man appreciated.

“I know you’ve had a great shock, Blair, even if it was to be expected.  I understand only too well that knowing a loved one has a terminal illness doesn’t prevent a sense of grief and loss when the inevitable actually occurs.  And because I don’t wish to add to your burden of grief any more than I can help, I’ll keep this as succinct as possible, alright?”

Swallowing hard around the lump of emotion suddenly clogging his throat, Blair nodded briefly, his words soft but fairly steady as he answered.  “Thank you, Mr Guildford.  I appreciate everything you’re doing for me – and Eli.  I...I’m not sure it’ll all sink in right now, but I’d like to hear whatever you can tell me.”

Nodding in understanding, his approval of Blair’s candour matched by Jim’s, Guildford smiled sympathetically in response and continued.

Barely an hour later, Blair slumped back in his seat, emotionally exhausted and unbelievably grateful for Jim’s steadying grip on his forearm.

Guildford had commenced by dealing with the practicalities surrounding Eli’s death.  He told Blair that he couldn’t foresee any problems with the issue of the death certificate on account of Eli’s long-term illness.  Once the ME was satisfied, Eli was to be transported to a pre-arranged funeral home where he had specifically requested a closed-casket, brief and simple secular ceremony.  This was to be followed by a wake, during which he specifically intended for people to enjoy themselves, and celebrate his life rather than his demise.  He had confessed to Jim that he had never been able to stand the idea of being ‘gawped at’ although Jim was pretty certain his real reason was that he didn’t want Blair to be any more distressed than necessary.  And even Blair was able to conjure up a tiny, sad smile when he was told of Eli’s choice for a biodegradable casket and cremation, in keeping with Eli’s well-known ‘green’ principles.  Most importantly, although it didn’t have much immediate impact on Blair, Eli had set aside sufficient funds to cover everything, so at least the young man wouldn’t be troubled with unexpected expenses.

Guildford had then confirmed what Jim had told Blair.  That he was now Jim’s responsibility and that his sentinel was his legal guardian, with the paperwork to prove it.  Although Guildford didn’t ask specifically if Jim and Blair had bonded, he trusted in Jim’s integrity, so assumed it was a done deal.  As Jim had also told Blair, the working bond created through imprinting was legally binding enough for Blair’s illegal status to be over-ridden, and full citizenship would follow in due course.

Although Blair had undoubtedly believed Jim, they both knew that having the legal proof meant a great deal to the young guide, bolstering his self-confidence and sense of security more than anything else could have done, and his relief was palpable.

Guildford had then made an effort to prepare Blair for the reading of the Will, which would take place after the funeral.  Although he couldn’t reveal the contents prematurely, he implied that Blair should be aware that he was mentioned, so should be available for the occasion.  And even though he had absolutely no preconception that he could be a major beneficiary, Blair was simply incredibly happy that Eli had loved him enough to include him, perhaps to bequeath him a few precious tokens by which to remember their time together.

After offering Guildford their heart-felt thanks and bidding him farewell for the time being, Jim escorted his guide back to the jeep, a little concerned at the young man’s preoccupied air.  He was well aware that, if they had completed the full, sexual bond already, he would have been able to link with the empath and therefore have a better understanding of what he was going through, but for the time being, he had to be content with being there for Blair in whatever capacity he was able, frustrating though it undoubtedly was.

\----------------------------------

Back in the jeep, and heading towards the PD, Blair was once again beset by anxiety as he envisaged the upcoming encounter with Jim’s colleagues in MCU, and, more worryingly, with Captain Banks.  His agitation grew as he could no longer ignore last night’s confrontation despite his best efforts, and his thoughts fled back to the loft....

\---------------------------------

**Previous evening, the loft:**

As it turned out, Simon Banks had arrived far earlier than Jim had expected, and Blair had still been asleep upstairs.  Forewarned only by a matter of minutes when he detected Simon’s car pulling up outside 852, Jim refrained from rushing upstairs and shaking his guide awake.  Far better to let him rouse more naturally, and so what if Simon saw him come down from Jim’s bedroom?  Jim would simply explain the level of bond achieved so far, and if the man chose to think the worst, then so be it.

When he had opened the door, not giving his boss the chance to knock, Simon had stalked in, unlit cigar clamped between his teeth in deference to Jim’s sentinel-sensitive nose.  “Still wish you wouldn’t do that, Ellison,” he growled as he made his way further into the loft. “So, where’s this kid?”

“He’s upstairs, sir, trying to get some sleep.  So I’d appreciate it if we could keep this quiet, sir,” Jim replied, tone just this side of civil.  He knew it would serve no purpose to deliberately antagonise the man, but it was hard under the circumstances, in the light of Banks’ less than sympathetic response to his earlier call.  Simon stared at him for a long moment, his gaze shrewd and appraising, before nodding brusquely. 

“Fine.  Perhaps it’s better to begin without him anyway.  So,” he continued, seating himself unasked on Jim’s loveseat.  “Just how long have you known about this kid?”

And Jim sat down opposite him and told him everything.

During his recitation, Banks had controlled himself remarkably well, and somehow managed to refrain from interrupting even though Jim could easily discern the man’s growing anger and aggravation.  However, at that point, Blair appeared at the top of the stairs, his expression a desperate mix of fear, hurt and anxiety.  As Jim had already noted, he had woken up several minutes before, so had heard a fair amount of Jim’s detailed explanation.  But his empathy also told him that the words had again been received with little sympathy from Jim’s boss, and he turned beseeching eyes on his sentinel, tacitly pleading for support and instruction on how he should behave.

He received his answer in Jim’s gentle smile, his ice-blue eyes telegraphing nothing but kindness and encouragement as he stood and beckoned to Blair.  Quickly descending the stairs, Blair ran over to Jim, to be pulled into a warm hug where he remained for a few seconds, soaking up the big cop’s solid strength.  Feeling better, he smiled gratefully up at Jim as the other man pushed him away slightly, but only enough so he could tuck Blair protectively against his side before approaching Simon.

“Captain Banks, sir.  Allow me to introduce my guide, Blair Sandburg,” Jim announced formally, releasing Blair enough for the young man to extend his hand politely, if nervously, towards Simon.

And Simon just couldn’t seem to help himself.  He stood up and deliberately towered over the kid, all 6’4” of solid and intimidating bulk, his huge hand engulfing Blair’s much smaller one.

“Guide Sandburg,” he ground out.  “I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you, but I wouldn’t want to lie.  Prove to me I’m mistaken in my belief that you can’t actually be of any use to Sentinel Detective Ellison.”  And the situation might very well have gotten extremely ugly right then if Blair hadn’t been able to get Jim to back down.

Reacting automatically to Blair’s surge of fear and distress, Jim had actually snarled at Banks, for all the world like the black panther that was his animal spirit.  But before he could physically attack the other man, Blair had hurriedly stepped between them despite his terror, instinctively understanding that he had to control his sentinel before giving in to his own fear responses.

“Please, Jim, no!  I’m alright, really.  Please, man,” and Jim had listened, and backed off.  And that in itself actually earned Blair a modicum of grudging respect from Simon, even if he wasn’t prepared to admit it out loud.

Backing off himself, even if reluctant to offer a genuine apology yet, Simon had returned to his seat and studied the pair, who were now seated side by side, the small guide tucked firmly against Jim and with a strong arm wrapped uncompromisingly around his shoulders.

It was obvious to Blair that he had made a poor first impression on the captain, and once the man began to speak, he was dismayed to hear just how poor that impression was.

“OK, Ellison.  Jim.  I’m sorry if I upset your guide, but frankly, what did you expect?  I have a police department to run, not a kindergarten, and I can’t see how that is going to include you unless you can persuade me otherwise.  He’s a kid.  An illegal at that!  OK, I agree he needs protection.  Shit, the so-called Task Force was created for that very reason.  He’s talented, so you say, and I’m inclined to believe that, seeing how he calmed you down just now, and he’s pretty also.  But why must you bond?  Can’t you wait a bit longer and find someone more appropriate?  There’s no way he can go out in the field with you for years, if ever, so is it worth risking your career for?  Can’t you just break whatever you two have got going between you, and let him go into protective custody until the Immigration Department decides what’s best for him?”

Hearing the captain’s opinions stated so baldly, Blair couldn’t help but see them more or less objectively, as others undoubtedly would.  And the self-confidence and happiness gained earlier melted like ice in the sun, leaving him trembling and hurt, just waiting for the axe to fall.  Because Captain Banks surely had the right of it, and the past few weeks were no more than a dream.  A glimpse of an unattainable future of love, companionship and security in which he had been foolish enough to believe.

But once again Jim had stepped up and defended him – defended them both – and he was hard-put not to weep in relief.

Words clipped, militarily precise and steeped in soul-deep conviction, Jim replied on behalf of them both.

“With respect, sir, you have no idea what you are talking about.  Leaving aside your erroneous belief that Blair is unfit to be my guide, I wouldn’t reject him now even if I wanted to.  Yes, it’s true that the type of working bond we already have could – with a huge amount of pain and hardship to us both – be forcibly broken, but it would damage us both for an unknown period.  And even when we recover, it might be impossible for either of us to bond again.  I wouldn’t do that to Blair, and would rather not do it to myself.

“You can rest easy insofar as we haven’t bonded sexually yet, because if we had, this conversation would be academic.  But I have no doubt that eventually we will have such a bond, and that bond will be unbreakable unto death.

“So, the ball’s in your court sir.  Either you accept us and try to accommodate us, or I shall be forced to seek employment elsewhere where my guide will be accepted.  Your choice, sir,” and Jim had sat back with an air of finality.

Face grim, Simon had sat back also, absorbing the full impact of his detective’s impassioned words.

“Hmmmf!  Well, I guess that’s it then, for now.  But as long as you’re holding off on the sex, I’m going to keep hoping.  Keep hoping that you’ll come to your senses – absolutely NO pun intended – and take my advice.  Bring him in tomorrow, and we’ll talk again.” And when Blair could take no more, and unwanted tears began to trickle down his pale cheeks, Simon whirled about and strode to the door, letting himself out without a backward glance.

\------------------------------------

**Present, Cascade PD:**

Jerking back to the present as Jim pulled into the PD’s underground parking garage, Blair swallowed convulsively as Jim cast him an appraising and compassionate glance.

“How’re you doing, Chief?  Are you sure you’re up to this?  Because if not, just say the word and we’re out of here.”

Offering Jim a slightly wavering smile, Blair did his best to appear as calm and collected as possible, impressing Jim with his plucky efforts as he replied, “I’ll be OK, Jim.  I know I have to meet your colleagues and get to know the department, so I may as well make a start.  I mean, you’ll be there, won’t you?” but his voice betrayed him with his last remark as his courage slipped a little, tailing off somewhat plaintively as he blushed in sudden shame at his weakness.

Pulling him in for a quick hug, Jim reassured him immediately.  “All the way, Chief, I promise.  I wouldn’t dream of letting you face them alone.  Don’t be afraid.”

“I’ll try not to be, Jim.  As long as you’re with me, I can do it.”  And he was rewarded with one of Jim’s best smiles.

\----------------------------------

The journey up to MCU wasn’t without incident, which Jim had rather anticipated, since his new guide had lived the life of a virtual recluse for the best part of five years.  Blair gazed around him with touching curiosity, although he never relinquished his hold of Jim’s sweater, and was happy to remain tucked protectively into his sentinel’s side.  The worst moment came during the ride up to the seventh floor in the elevator.  Having entered at the parking garage level, Jim had hoped somewhat wishfully for a straightforward ride up to the MCU’s floor, but it was not to be.  The car stopped at the foyer level to admit several others, including Detective Mitch Kowalski - a man Jim had had the misfortune to have been partnered with on several occasions when he worked in Vice.

After openly eyeing Blair up for a few moments, he offered Jim a knowing grin as he leered lasciviously in Blair’s direction.  In a pseudo-confidential stage whisper he leaned in to address Jim.  “Just like old times, eh, Jimbo?  Got yourself a sweet piece of ass there.  What have you pulled him in for?  You want to hand him over to Vice?  ’Cos I guarantee we’ll take good care of him!” and he sniggered at his own pitiful excuse at witticism while reaching out as if to grab Blair’s arm.

The next moment he found himself slammed against the wall, while the car’s other occupants tried frantically to get out of the furious sentinel’s proximity.  Snarling in near-primal rage, Jim growled, “My guide, Kowalski!  Don’t you _ever_ touch or speak to him again or I’ll tear your arms off!  And you know I can do it.  What’s more,” he added in a feral hiss, which was all the more terrifying for its implacable resolve, “I wouldn’t even be reprimanded under Sentinel Law.  So BACK OFF!” and he shoved his victim away from him with a grimace of distaste.

As the onlookers kept their distance as best they could, and the frightened man held up his hands in supplication, Jim pulled Blair into his arms, uncaring of their companions’ reactions, and only relaxing slightly once the elevator reached Kowalski’s floor and he bolted out of the car as if pursued by all the hounds of Hell.  Strangely enough, all the other occupants left at the same level also, leaving sentinel and guide to complete their short trip alone.

When they reached the seventh floor and exited the car, Jim turned Blair to face him, hands rubbing Blair’s upper arms comfortingly.  “I’m so sorry about that, babe.  Kowalski’s a first-class asshole, so I hope you don’t think everyone in the PD is tarred with the same brush.”

As he stroked the delicate skin beneath one large blue eye with his thumb, he was nearly overwhelmed with Blair’s response, and the trust that shone out of the bright blue orbs.

“I’m OK, Jim, really.  And I shouldn’t be surprised by that sort of reaction.  After all,” he continued ruefully, voice and expression coloured by self-deprecation.  “I probably look pretty weird to most people here.  More than a little odd!”

“No, Chief!” came the immediate and fervent response.  “Exotic, sure, and beautiful for certain.  But never odd.  Believe me on that one, babe.”

And for his own peace of mind, Blair chose to believe him.

By the time they had completed the short walk to the Major Crime Unit’s doors, Blair had done a pretty good job of regaining a certain amount of equilibrium, bolstered by the strength and comfort he was soaking up through Jim’s possessive hold.  However, it was inevitable much of his hard-won courage would slip away once they entered the bullpen, and he had to fight his instinctive urge to turn and run.  Jim sensed as much, and tightened his hold, murmuring, “Steady, Blair.  It’s OK, kiddo.  Just stick close, OK?”  And Blair nodded in nervous acquiescence as all eyes seemed to turn to them, and a momentary hush descended while the bullpen’s occupants studied the new arrivals.

Although he tried not to ‘read’ too much into it, the empath in Blair could easily discern a mix of emotions varying from simple curiosity, avid interest, through to disdain and even a tinge of lust, so he slammed his mental shields down before Jim could react to his dismay.  Looking down at the floor, he had a split second’s thought that it was perhaps a good thing that he and Jim hadn’t completed the full sexual bond yet.  Because if they had, Jim would be there in his mind; linked and able to experience his guide’s every emotional response.  As it was, he was fully aware of Blair’s physiological reactions, and that was enough for him to go on alert.

However, the moment passed when a rather portly African American man approached them, hand held out in welcome and a friendly smile on his pleasant face.  Carefully observing sentinel and guide etiquette by addressing Jim first, even though his smile took in both of them, he said, “Jim, my friend.  Good to see you back so soon, and with your guide.  May I offer him my congratulations?”  And Jim responded with real warmth as he grasped the offered hand.

“Thanks, Joel.  It’s good to be here.  And yes, let me introduce you to my guide.  Guide Blair Sandburg, this is my friend and colleague, Captain Joel Taggart.”

Blair immediately warmed to the big man, feeling his genuine kindness and interest, so he held out his own hand politely, to have it grasped firmly but gently in both Joel’s large hands.

“Um, pleased to meet you, sir,” and he offered Joel a shy smile, instantly captivating the older man.  Joel’s own smile widened even further as he replied, “And I’m very pleased to meet, you, Guide Sandburg.  May I call you Blair?”

At Blair’s pleased nod of acceptance, he continued, eyes sparkling in mischief.  “Well, Blair, I can see already that you’re doing my friend Jim here a world of good,” and here he winked cheerily at Jim.  “It’s more than time that Major Crime’s own sentinel got to use his gifts properly.  And it’ll be good for his temper, too, so we can all relax a bit!” and Jim couldn’t help but join in with his friend’s chuckle.

“Thanks, Joel – I think!” laughed Jim as he squeezed Blair’s shoulder comfortingly.  “So, any more on the Task Force yet?”

The other man’s face became serious as he answered, “No, Jim, I’m afraid not.  No miraculous turnaround in circumstances.  But maybe things will improve now we’ve got an official sentinel and guide team working for us,” he added with a touch of fond hopefulness.  “And I gather that Homicide’s pair is looking forward to combining their efforts with you two.”

“Well, I guess that’ll depend on what Simon decides,” Jim replied with a wry grin.  “Meanwhile, I’ll get Blair settled at my desk, and we’ll take it from there.”

“Sure, Jim.  I’ll be getting along then.  I’m meeting Megan at the mall.  Been another of those jewellery store heists and she wants me to follow up some leads with her.  See you soon, Blair, Jim,” and he patted Jim’s shoulder in passing as he exited the bullpen.

The atmosphere seemed to have lightened considerably following Joel’s welcome, and Jim nodded in response to a few words of greeting from one or two others as he led Blair over to his desk.

Reaching his destination, Jim was looking around for a spare chair when he suddenly spun around, pushing Blair behind him as if facing a new threat.  However, when a startled Blair peeped around him, not having felt anything other than friendly interest, he saw Jim eyeing up a disparate pair of younger men, who had just entered the bullpen and were approaching Jim’s desk wearing grins of welcome and blatant curiosity.

“Shit!  H, Rafe!  Might have guessed,” Jim growled unconvincingly, although Blair could tell he was still on alert.  “I suppose you want to meet my guide also?”

“Hey, Jimbo!  How’re you doin’, babe?” and H bounced into Jim’s space, cheerfully unconscious of the social niceties when it came to sentinel and guide protocol.  Apparently blissfully unaware of Jim’s frown, he peered around the taller man, and addressed Blair.  “Hi, kid!  Hey, good to meet you,” and he reached a hand around only to be pulled up short by his partner, who had a good deal more sense – and sense of self-preservation.

Grinning disarmingly up at Jim as he hauled his partner unceremoniously backwards, Rafe murmured, “Sorry about that Jim.  You know H has no manners,” and when H shot him a puzzled look and opened his mouth to question his friend’s comment, he hissed, “H!  You _know_ you should never address a newly-bonded guide!  Not if you want to keep your limbs intact, anyhow!”

And Blair couldn’t help himself.  He giggled out loud at the new arrivals’ antics, and that worked like a charm to defuse the situation.  Jim grinned sheepishly at his own over-possessive posturing when he knew well and good that his colleagues meant his guide no harm, and H and Rafe were totally won over by the young man.

“OK, guys.  That’s enough.  Let me introduce my guide, Blair Sandburg.  Blair, these two reprobates claim to be MCU’s finest.  Go figure!” and he sniggered at the mock-offended gasps and frowns his words earned him.  “Seriously,” he continued, “Let me introduce Henri ‘H’ Brown, and his better-dressed – and better mannered – partner, Brian Rafe.  They’re the MCU’s most senior partnership.”

Although he held his hand out politely for them to shake, Jim could tell by Blair’s barely-concealed confusion that he was puzzled at H and Rafe’s comparative youth.  Smiling amiably at all three, Jim offered an explanation.  “Yeah, I know they seem like babes in arms, Chief, but they are actually the unit’s longest-serving pair.  Most of my time at the PD so far has been spent in Vice, and I only transferred here a year or so ago.  And I’ve never worked with a regular partner.  By choice!” he added, with an only half-joking scowl.  “As for Joel, he transferred in just before me from the Bomb Squad.  And his partner, Megan Connor, is a newly-arrived exchange officer from Australia.  So you see, they do actually qualify...!” and he deliberately let his voice tail off in assumed bemusement.

By this time, Blair was snickering uncontrollably, and his uncomplicated mirth was catching so that not only were Jim, H and Rafe chuckling along with him, but several others cops in earshot also.  And that as much as anything served to ease Blair’s acceptance into the unit, as it would be a hard-assed listener indeed who could fail to be entranced by the attractive and personable teen.

However, a bellowed command from the captain’s office put an end to their enjoyment, and Blair paled dramatically as Jim sighed in irritation.

“Ellison!  My office!  And bring him too!”

“Sorry guys,” he said, with a wry grimace.  “Duty calls!”  And as H and Rafe nodded in sympathetic understanding, he gathered Blair to him and made his way over to Banks’ inner sanctum.

\---------------------------------------

When the pair entered Banks’ office, they took the seats indicated across from his desk, but pressed closely together as Jim maintained his comforting contact with his nervous guide.  Lips thinned in irritation, Simon regarded them in silence for a few minutes, until Blair was almost squirming in discomfiture.  When Jim was driven to almost sub-vocal growling, he held up his hands quickly, exasperation in his tone as he said, “OK, OK, stand down, Sentinel!  No need for the attitude.  I mean your guide no harm, even if I do disapprove of this,” and he waved his hand at them, indicating their close proximity.

“Why do you have to do all this touchy-feely stuff anyway?  If Sandburg got any closer he’d be on your lap.  I know sentinels and guides rely on touch a lot more than us mere mortals, but you two seem to take it to extremes!  Why is that?  Because I’ve got to say it makes me more than uncomfortable!  Donald and Shirley Michaels in Homicide don’t paw each other all the time.”

Quelling his own irritation only with a huge effort, Jim responded, his tone distantly polite and deliberately pedantic.  “With all due respect, Captain Banks, the Michaels can hardly be compared to Blair and me.  Not only are they an established couple of ten years’ standing or more, but Donald only has two enhanced senses, sight and touch.  The other three are within normal ranges, if at the higher end.  He doesn’t need the same amount of grounding that an alpha like me needs, so Shirley is only a fairly low-grade guide. 

“You should also be aware that any newly bonded pair needs the reassurance of almost constant touch.  As a sentinel, I need to keep my guide safe, and ensure that others, particularly unbonded sentinels, know he has been claimed and is under my protection.  I dare say that we’ll touch less once we’ve grown into the bond, and have explored how long we can safely remain apart, but there’s always going to be a fair amount.  You know that, sir!”

“Yes. Well, maybe I do, but I don’t have to like it,” Simon replied with bad grace.  “That is, of course, supposing you’ll stay in MCU.  Which remains to be seen.

“So, on to the important stuff.  Here’s how I see things, so just sit there and listen for a bit, then you can give me your reactions.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you, and say up front that I can’t approve of this pairing.  I think the kid’s too young, he’s had a more than difficult and unorthodox lifestyle so far, and he’s completely untrained.  I do believe you when you say you haven’t bonded to the fullest extent yet.  You’re nothing if not a man of integrity, Ellison, but you’ve also said that it’s only a matter of time until you do.  Now, just how do you think that looks to me, Jim?  You’re what, ten years older than Sandburg?  He hasn’t even lived yet, man!  Or do you intend to be some sort of father figure?”

At that point, both older men were taken by surprise when Blair, fed up at being talked about as if he wasn’t there, found the courage to speak for himself.

“Um, no sir.  I don’t see Jim as a father figure at all, sir.  I. I mean, I’ve been lucky enough to have two father figures in my life, both of whom I loved, and both of whom are now dead.  And what I feel for Jim – for my Sentinel – is nothing like filial affection.  I know you think I’m very young.  And I am.  And I also admit that I haven’t seen much of the outside world in the past few years.

“But I’ve learned to trust Jim, and the love I feel for him isn’t just based on gratitude and hero worship.  When the time comes, if he’ll have me, I want the full bond, but I don’t want him to have to give up his chosen career just because of me.  If...if that means Jim has to reject me, then I’ll have to try and live with it.  But I want to stay.  I want to become what he needs.  Please let me try.”  And his beseeching gaze held Simon’s for long moments until his head dropped, courage exhausted and he waited in trepidation for the response to his fervent plea.

Incredibly moved, Jim pulled his guide actually into his lap, uncaring of his boss’ precious sensibilities, so that both of them missed the look of amazement and even grudging admiration that crossed Simon’s face.  _Well, shit, the kid had real guts after all_ , he thought to himself.  _Perhaps I’ve been too quick to judge them?_  And the fair-minded man underneath the bluff and bluster listened to his conscience, and prepared to throw them a lifeline.

“Right.  Alright.  You’ve made your point Jim, and Blair also.  I’m still not truly convinced that I’m doing the right thing, but I’m prepared to give you a fair trial.  As it happens, I’ve already consulted with the PD’s Sentinel Department liaison, and he confirms what I understood.  You’re both entitled to some bonding leave, so in this case, I want you to take at least until Dr Stoddard’s funeral is over.   I’m not quite so insensitive that I don’t know how traumatic that is going to be for you, Guide Sandburg,” and he actually managed a grim smile at the admission. 

“So.  Take a few days, and when you return, I’m putting you on desk duty, Jim, while you work out the details of how much grounding you’ll need on a day-to-day basis, and how far you can use your senses without Sandburg’s constant presence.

“And you, Blair.  I expect you to look into formal Guide training, either through the PD’s Academy Programme, or at the University.  Whichever works for you, and whichever you’re capable of. 

“It’s the best I can do; probably more than I should, but I’m not the ogre you undoubtedly think I am, Guide Sandburg.  Believe it or not, I don’t want to lose the possible benefits to my unit of a working sentinel and guide pair.  But I want to do what I think is right for all of us, and that doesn’t include putting young civilians in the firing line, OK? 

“So, go home, think about what I’ve said, and come back after you’ve laid Dr Stoddard to rest.  He was a good man, and you have my sincere condolences, Blair.  Now, go!  I’ve got work to do...!”

And he pulled a file towards him, uncomfortable with any possible emotional reaction, and intent on dismissing the pair without further heart-searching.

Taking the hint, Jim pulled Blair to his feet, and they made their escape, glad to have been granted more of a reprieve than they had expected.

\-----------------------------

**Three days later, Dr Stoddard’s funeral:**

Monday morning, the day of Eli Stoddard’s funeral, dawned bright and clear, which would undoubtedly have pleased him greatly.  However, as an unpretentious and modest man, he would not have approved so much of the way his careful plans were changed despite Blair’s attempts to follow them to the letter.  The problem was that Eli had a great many more friends and academic acquaintances than he would have admitted to, not to mention the many ‘great and good’ folks of Cascade society who fully intended to enhance their own reputations by attending the send-off of one of Rainier’s – and the world’s – most renowned anthropologists. So although the actual secular ceremony went more or less as planned, with only Eli’s closest friends and family in attendance, the wake was well and truly hijacked by the university, so that it became a grand affair worthy even of the Mayor’s presence.

And it was so very hard for Blair to deal with, even with the solid support of his concerned and over-protective sentinel.  It was only his sense of duty and love for Eli that commanded that he attend.

\----------------------------------

The days following Jim and Blair’s interview with Simon had been spent in relentless activity, with the pair travelling backwards and forwards between the loft, Eli’s house, the funeral home and Graham Guildford’s office.  Blair needed to keep an eye on Eli’s property as well as picking up changes of clothes since he couldn’t bring himself to stay overnight alone, and had been sleeping in Jim’s hastily cleared spare room under the stairs.  No matter that he invariably ended up in Jim’s bed when his nightmares and grief drove him up to take advantage of Jim’s comforting arms.  Jim certainly had no problem with that, and was also happy to accompany Blair on his trips to the other house, helping the young man to begin the sad process of sorting through Eli’s personal possessions, and preparing the property and its contents for whatever their eventual disposition might be after the reading of the Will.   Eli’s long-standing cleaner, Rosa, grief-stricken but resolute, had continued to do her twice-weekly routine, so it looked neat and tidy, if increasingly unlived-in and impersonal.  Jim understood how Blair’s feelings had to be somewhat ambivalent now as regards the place, because although he had considered it to be his home for the last few years, as far as he was concerned, he had no claim on it now its owner was deceased.  It was hard for him to detach himself, though, and he was grateful for Jim’s steadying arms when his emotions got the best of him.

As far as the funeral arrangements were concerned, Blair had been unable to do anything other than reach a compromise when put under pressure by Rainier’s Principle and Board of Governors.  With Jim’s uncompromising backing, and Guildford’s clear written instructions, he had been able to ensure that the simple ceremony remained just that.  However, because of his previous uncertain status and unofficial relationship to the great man, he found himself over-ridden by both the university authorities, and also by some of Eli’s distant relations, who had suddenly appeared as if by magic once the date of the funeral and the reading of the Will was made known.

In consequence, all Blair could do now was stand by unhappily as the gathering for the wake took on epic proportions, able to endure the occasion only because of the strength and unflinching protection of the sentinel at his side.

In truth, there were a few people in attendance who were kind and thoughtful towards the bereft youngster.  The handful of fellow academics and close friends who Eli had introduced to Blair, and who had often tutored him, were openly sympathetic and supportive.  He was also deeply touched when a contingent from the PD arrived, as Eli had consulted for them on many occasions in the past, and not only in respect of sentinel and guide matters.  Major Crimes was represented by Captain Banks, Joel Taggart and his partner Megan Connor, who immediately took to Blair and fussed over him despite Jim’s scowling disapproval.  Under less trying circumstances, Blair might have been amused at the way the tall, striking and very forthright brunette stood up to her glowering colleague, but for the moment he hadn’t the energy to do any more than willingly embrace her genuine concern for him.

However, there were others whose interest in him was much less compassionate, such as Eli’s relatives, whose reactions to him ranged from open curiosity to disgust and distrust to downright jealously.  And although he was completely unaware of it, he had also attracted some much more unwelcome attention.

Already stretched almost to breaking point by the poignant but beautiful funeral ceremony, Blair had shut down his empathic barriers as tightly as he could, and was now relying heavily on Jim’s willingly-offered shielding.  He was therefore spared much of the distress the other guests’ emotions might otherwise have caused him, but Jim was well aware of several snide and downright cruel comments directed towards his guide, being able to listen in to their furtive and mean-spirited asides.  In consequence, he was finding it increasingly difficult to contain both his anger and his instinctive desire to confront the offenders and take his revenge.  

But even a sentinel as gifted as Jim couldn’t isolate every word of every conversation spoken in the general cacophony of such a large – and loud – gathering, and so he missed the one which had the greatest potential to harm his beloved guide.

\---------------------------

In a side room off Rainier’s Great Hall wherein the gathering was being held, three of Cascade’s most powerful men were deep in conversation.  Sipping at a glass of champagne clutched in a meaty paw, Mayor Wayne Anderson surveyed the scene through the open doorway.  His corpulent body looked relaxed and unthreatening, but the shrewd and observant expression in his rather piggy eyes belied his languid demeanour.  Flicking his gaze back to his two companions, his smile was sardonic as he murmured, “Well, who’d have thought that the renowned Dr Stoddard could have led such an interesting private life?   Keeping a tasty morsel like that a secret was no mean feat.  The boy’s quite beautiful, is he not?  And a gifted Guide, according to my informant within the PD.  Pity he’s bonded to that Neanderthal Ellison,” and he raised an eyebrow at the taller of his listeners, gauging the man’s response.  He wasn’t disappointed at the other’s reaction.

Leon DuRoy was an elegant, middle aged man, tall, tanned and fit thanks to the skiing that was his greatest passion outside of making money and pursuing his political goals.  Already wealthy from the millions inherited from his established and well-connected family, he applied his impressive intelligence, Ivy League education and business acumen to achieve his desires; chief among which was to obtain enough backing to run for governor as a step towards higher things.  A man to be reckoned with, he had the ear of several politicians as well as government officials and local dignitaries, another of whom was the third member of the trio, Cascade’s Police Commissioner.

Too well-bred to rise to the bait in any display of vulgar bile, yet both his acquaintances saw the minute tightening of the skin around his eyes and the tension in the wide shoulders.

“Yes, Wayne, you’re right,” he answered, tone deceptively smooth and untroubled.  “Who could possibly have missed a boy like that?” and he shot a loaded glare at the Commissioner.  “At least some of those out there,” and he flicked a dismissive glance at the still considerable crowd milling around in the main hall, “were aware of him.  The Dean told me that a few of them were actually tutoring the boy,” and his mouth thinned in distaste.

Not able to resist pushing the matter further, Mayor Anderson changed tack slightly.  “And how is your son, Leon?  Still managing with the medication?”

And scored a direct hit.

Because Leon DuRoy Jnr., twenty-two-year-old only son and heir to the DuRoy millions and the apple of his father’s eye, had manifested as a sentinel mere months ago, and was now fully – and painfully – online.

Signs of real irritation now plain to see in the tight jaw and the hand clutching the delicate champagne flute in a potentially disastrous white-knuckled grip, Leon forced himself to relax by dint of his considerable willpower before replying.

“Thank you, Wayne.  He’s as well as can be expected under the circumstances.  But you can rest assured I won’t stop searching until we find a compatible ‘cure’.”  And both his listeners were aware of his true meaning.

Smiling somewhat wolfishly now, Mayor Anderson continued smoothly, “Perhaps you’ll find what you seek in the next consignment, Leon?  One can but hope...” he added in faux sympathy.

And DuRoy fixed him with a calculating look as he pondered aloud in response.  “But then again, my dear Wayne, maybe I won’t need to wait.  Perhaps the answer has been here under our noses all along...” and his eyes flicked appraisingly back to where Blair was just leaving, flanked by the protective presence of Ellison and two of his colleagues.

The Commissioner’s lips thinned uneasily at the comment, but he held his peace.

\------------------------------------------

**Part 4: A Guide in danger:**

**Later that afternoon, Graham Guildford’s office:**

Blair sat quietly in the furthest corner of Guildford’s comfortable room, his body shielded for the most part from prying eyes by the comforting bulk of his sentinel and protector.  Almost too tired to think straight, he was pretty much running on fumes after an emotionally exhausting day, and the very last thing he needed right now was to be here for the reading of Eli’s Will.  But he could do no less, knowing it was what Eli wanted, so he concentrated his efforts on holding himself together for just a while longer.   He knew Jim was studying him intently; worry uppermost in his expression, and Blair tried hard to grin, wanting to reassure his sentinel even though he knew the attempt was doomed to fail.

Taking Blair’s tightly clenched fists in his own warm hands, Jim rubbed gentle circles over the taut skin of his guide’s knuckles as he murmured softly, “Are you sure you want to go through with this, babe?  I’m sure under the circumstances Graham will understand and allow you to have a private reading tomorrow when you’ve have some rest.  Just say the word, kiddo, and we’re out of here.”

Smiling softly up at Jim, gratitude plain to see in his tired blue eyes, Blair whispered his reply, excluding the others present but knowing that sentinel ears would have no trouble in picking up every word.

“I’m OK, really, Jim.  It’s been a hard day, and I know you can tell that I’m pretty washed out, but I want to do this.  I want to get everything done with and out in the open so I can start to plan my future.  Our future...” and his voice tailed off completely as his expression turned shy, hoping that he hadn’t been presumptuous in his assumption that their destiny really did include a lifelong partnership.

Jim’s reply was one of gentle reproach as his eyes telegraphed his love for the nervous young man.

“Now you should know better than that, Chief.  Our bond is for keeps, no question about it, OK?  Anyway”, he continued, head cocked in his unconscious ‘listening’ pose, “Graham’s just about to enter, Chief, so we can get this show on the road, then make our exit.  I’m thinking we both could do with some quiet time.”  And Blair nodded in whole-hearted agreement.

The door opened to admit Graham Guildford, who nodded and smiled at all present, his expression subtly warmer when his gaze landed on Blair and Jim.  Seating himself behind his wide desk, he opened the file he had brought with him, and looked up to address his audience.

“Thank you all for coming here today.  Dr Stoddard’s Last Will and Testament is clear and concise, and as he requested, I shall read it verbatim.  Are there any objections?” and he looked around him, eyebrow raised slightly in cool enquiry.  Receiving everyone’s assent, he removed the relevant document and prepared to begin, well aware that some of the attendees, specifically Eli’s four cousins, leaned forward slightly, clearly hard-put to keep their expressions clear of greedy anticipation.

Without further ado, Guildford began to read.

“‘To my devoted cleaner and friend, Ms Rosa Mendez, I leave the sum of $50,000.00, and the porcelain tea service I know she always admired--’ and got no further as the lady in question burst into tears, plainly overwhelmed with gratitude.  As her husband comforted her, Jim and Blair exchanged satisfied looks, knowing that she hadn’t expected such generosity, but that she undoubtedly deserved it.  Pulling herself together, she offered a shaky apology, and sent Blair a watery smile, which he returned with an affectionate and understanding one of his own.

Unruffled, Graham smiled reassuringly at Rosa, saying kindly, “You are most welcome to leave now if you prefer, Mr and Mrs Mendez.  I shall contact you shortly to arrange for the payment of your bequest.”  Thanking him for his thoughtful offer, the couple left, arms wrapped around each others’ waists as Rosa leaned into her husband’s welcome support.

“To continue,” Graham spoke, expression serious once more.

“‘To my cousins, Edward Stoddard, Michael Stoddard, Edwina Murray and Benedict Mercer, I leave the sum of $50,000.00 each.  Enjoy!’

And once again he was interrupted, this time by protestations and indignant exclamations as the disappointed recipients vented their annoyance.  Taking upon himself the role of spokesperson, the oldest member of the quartet, Edward, demanded, “Is that it?  We’re his closest surviving relatives, and he gives us the same as his _cleaner?_   This is an insult!  So where is the rest of his estate going?  Don’t tell me he’s leaving it all to academia?  Or some arcane anthropological project?  This is absurd!”

“If you’ll allow me to continue,” Guildford responded politely but pointedly, “all will become clear.”  So with decidedly bad grace, the four subsided for the moment, although their demeanours promised more discord to come.

“‘To Rainier University Department of Anthropology,’ and here Dean Wilson, acting as the university’s representative, leant forward slightly, ‘I wish to create a scholarship in my name for a deserving but underprivileged student wishing to specialise in Sentinel Studies, or more specifically, Guide Studies.  To be funded by the monies set aside in the account created for that purpose, as administrated by my lawyer and friend, Mr Graham Guildford.’

Smiling approvingly, Den Wilson muttered, “Most generous.  Most generous, to be sure!”

Plainly sharing the sentiment, Guildford spoke again.  “‘I also bequeath to Rainier University Anthropology Department, the contents of my formal library, to include all books, papers and my collection of artefacts housed therein’, and the Dean’s eyes lit up as his smile widened in appreciation.  He was well aware that the collection represented a generous bequest indeed, and would be of great benefit to the department and the university as a whole.

“‘The contents of my private library, I bequeath to my dear young friend, Blair Sandburg; to include Sir Richard Burton’s monograph, _The Sentinels of Paraguay,_ and all volumes listed herewith.’  Here Guildford met Blair’s astounded gaze with a kindly smile.  “I have a copy of the list for your information, Blair, which you can take with you to look over at your leisure,” and all Blair could do was nod in mute thanks, the lump in his throat too big to speak around.  It was far more than he had either expected or hoped for, and his gratitude and love for his friend and mentor knew no bounds.

However, even as the cousins sent barely-concealed sneers in his direction, there was more discontent to come as Guildford reached the final stages of the reading.

“‘The remainder of my estate, including my house and contents other than those bequeathed to Rainier University, and the balance of my savings and various bank accounts, I also leave to Blair Sandburg.  The son I never had, but the delight of my final years.  Be happy, Blair, and remember me kindly.’

And completely overwrought, Blair burst into tears, to be gathered up in Jim’s powerful arms, as the cousins erupted in fury.  On the other hand, the Dean was kind and concerned, dismissive of Eli’s relations’ impotent but offensive behaviour.  Crossing over to where Blair sobbed against Jim’s broad chest, Wilson nodded sympathetically to Jim, and patted Blair’s shaking shoulder comfortingly.

“Please tell young Blair that I’ll contact him later to arrange for the collection of Eli’s legacy.  No need to trouble him until he’s had a chance to come to terms with all this,” and when Jim murmured his thanks and assent on their behalf, he nodded again and left the pair in relative peace.

With Dean Wilson’s help, Guildford managed to usher the still-protesting cousins out of his office, then exited the room himself, intending to give the distraught young man some privacy while he chatted amicably to Dean Wilson in the anteroom.

Inclining his head towards the closed office door, Wilson said musingly, “I’m glad young Sandburg has someone to take care of him.  That was some surprise, was it not?  But that was Eli for you!” and he chuckled in benign recollection.   Then he regarded Graham for a moment, his gaze direct and open as he admitted candidly, “I did know of the young man’s existence, even though I never actually met him.  Although officially I know I should have informed the authorities, I believed it wasn’t for me to make that judgement, so I chose to look the other way.  After all, I’d never actually laid eyes on the lad, so I had no proof other than hearsay.  And looking at him now, I have no regrets.  He’s a fine young man, and a credit to Eli’s memory,” and with that, he shook Guildford’s hand and took his leave.

\-----------------------------------

Back once more in the loft, Jim applied himself unreservedly to caring for his young partner.  Once he had virtually carried the mute and trembling young man out of Guildford’s office to his jeep, he had wasted no time getting back to his home territory, where he could see to his guide’s immediate needs.  Blair was so deeply shocked at the whole concept of being Eli’s heir, that he simply couldn’t get his head around the implications for himself and for Jim also.   His overwhelming gratitude warred with terror at the prospect of being a man of property and the responsibilities that such a condition entailed, and for the moment it was completely impossible for him to deal with it.  He had consequently shut down and withdrawn into himself, content to hide away from reality for a few precious hours and relying on his sentinel to care for him.

Understanding completely, even though he was concerned at the frightening blankness in his guide’s beautiful but unfocussed eyes, Jim carefully led an unresisting Blair up to the loft bedroom, where he stripped him down to his underwear before coaxing him into bed.  Stripping himself quickly, he climbed in beside his guide, his actions entirely devoid of any sexual intent, and designed purely to comfort, reassure and protect Blair until the young man was once more able to face the world.  Taking him into his arms, he settled Blair’s head against his shoulder, wrapping the still slightly shaking body in a warm embrace, crooning soothing nonsense words until the smaller man sank into a deep and healing sleep.   

\-----------------------------------

**Two days later, MCU bullpen:**

When Jim and Blair entered the bullpen this time, it was a much more relaxed guide who looked around him inquisitively, although he remained tucked protectively against Jim’s side.  After a much more restful night than expected, undoubtedly due for the most part to Jim’s unstinting care and comfort, Blair had awoken refreshed and determined to deal with his completely unexpected legacy.  There was no way he wanted to deny or detract from either Eli’s generosity or his memory by hiding away from or shirking his new responsibilities, so he and Jim had spent many hours in discussion, sharing their thoughts and plans, and deciding on the best course of action.  They were here now to share the relevant decisions with Simon Banks, hoping that what they had in mind would satisfy the captain.

No sooner than the door had closed behind them, a piercing squeal made Jim wince as Megan Connor flew across the office to greet them.  “Sandy!  How’re you doing, love?” and the irrepressible Aussie threw her arms around a blushing but pleased Blair, totally dismissing Jim’s growls of disapproval.  Pulling back a little to look down into the pink-cheeked and shyly smiling face tilted up to hers, she studied him carefully for a minute or two, stroking the soft skin of his cheek with her thumb.

“Well, you sure look a lot better than when I saw you last, Sandy.  Guess this big lug’s been looking after you well enough, huh?” and she shot a cheeky grin at Jim.  “Are you going to be staying in Major Crimes, love?  We could do with a fresh face – and some fresh ideas – in here!” and she ruffled his curls affectionately.

“Well, that’ll be up to the captain, Connor, as the final decision will be his,” Jim interjected stiffly, still uncomfortable with her familiarity with his guide, and trying to contain his possessive instincts to bundle Blair up and take him home to his territory.  Unimpressed as usual by his glowering attitude, Megan was about to reply when H and Rafe joined them.

“Hey, Hairboy!” a grinning H addressed a bemused Blair.  “How’re you doin’, babe?  Jim looking after you OK?”

“Um, yes, thank you Detective Brown,” Blair answered politely, but couldn’t resist adding, “Um, Hairboy?”

And H also ruffled his curls, laughing cheerfully as he said, “Well, it sure suits you, babe.  The mane and the name, my man!” and he gleefully nudged Rafe, who simply grinned and rolled his eyes at his partner’s irreverent but artless comments, knowing there was no malice implied or intended.  

However, they were interrupted by a voice issuing from Banks’ office, although the summons was lacking in much of its usual belligerence.  “Sentinel Detective Ellison, Guide Sandburg, my office!  And you lot have work to get on with, so get to it!”  And with rueful chuckles, the small gathering broke up and Jim steered his now rather nervous guide over to the open office door.

Once inside, Blair was grateful to note that although still unsmiling and speculative, Simon’s glare was far less ferocious than at their previous interview.  Taking it as a good sign, he briefly lowered his shields and ‘read’ the big man, finding that there seemed to be more curiosity than hostility, so he dared to hope that his and Jim’s proposals might actually meet with Simon’s approval.   Seating themselves at Banks’ invitation, Blair tried not to press up too closely to Jim’s comforting bulk, knowing that it made the captain uneasy, but was still anchored by his sentinel’s warm hand resting possessively on his knee.

Standing, Simon moved over to his coffee machine, offering his visitors a cup before pouring one for himself.  Blair accepted with shy pleasure, and this time Jim also indulged himself, knowing that Blair’s grounding presence would anchor him should the blend prove rather too exotic again for sentinel-sensitive taste buds.

Once again seated, Simon took an appreciative mouthful before setting his mug aside and studying them for a moment before speaking.

“I’m glad to see you looking better, young man,” and he treated Blair to a brief smile.  For a few moments the deep brown eyes shone with compassion and understanding as he continued, “You held up remarkably well during that wake, and I have to say I was impressed by your fortitude.  It’s no easy matter burying a loved one, especially when you have so many unwanted interlopers trying to turn an intimate and heartfelt occasion into a three-ring circus.  And I gather you had something of a shock at the reading of the Will?”

Offering the older man a smile, although his eyes reflected still-raw pain, Blair responded quietly but firmly, wanting to get the discussion started before he lost his nerve.

“Thank you, Captain Banks.   I am much better, thanks to Jim,” and he shot a loving glance over at his stoic partner.

“It’s true that I had a hard time at the wake, but I really appreciated the support I received from Eli’s – and my - friends, and also from you, sir.  I’m sure Eli would have appreciated your presence and that of the other members of the Police Department, so thank you for that.

“And as for the Will, yes, it was something of a shock,” he admitted, exchanging a brief wry grimace with Jim before meeting Simon’s gaze again, his expression now one of sober resolve.  “Although I had never expected it, Eli has left nearly everything to me.  There were a few other bequests, and he wanted Rainier to have most of his books, papers and artefacts, but the greater part of his estate, and his house, well, um, they now belong to me,” and he ducked his head quickly, still shaken by the realisation, especially when uttered aloud.

“Anyway,” he continued, looking up again with renewed determination, “Jim has helped me so much in coming to terms with my good fortune, and with deciding what I should do to plan my – our – futures.  May I explain?” and he looked from Simon to Jim and back, seeking their agreement.

Simon nodded his assent, and waved his hand to indicate that Blair continue, while Jim sent him a reassuring smile.  “Go ahead, Chief.  Just let me know if you want back-up!” and he chuckled affectionately, pleased to see his guide relax a little again.

Taking a deep breath, Blair began.   “I want to keep Eli’s house.  I know he loved it very much, and he would want me to stay, I’m sure, and that’s why he left it to me.  And I’ve asked Jim to move in with me.  It’s too big for just me.  Actually, it’s big for just two,” and he smiled fondly, recalling how Eli used to say they rattled around like two peas in a colander.  “I know it’s further out than Jim’s apartment, but I believe it’s still within the PD’s accepted commuting limit?  And if Jim keeps the loft, he can use it when he’s working cases that need him to be nearer at hand.”  He couldn’t help but look over to Jim at that point, still unsure of his status, but Jim simply squeezed his knee as he confirmed Blair’s statement.

“That’s right, Chief.  And as long as you’re happy with that, captain, that’s what I’d like to do.  Blair needs to feel secure, and it’s a great place for sure.  And like he says, when you need me to be on hand, we’ll stay in the loft.  Go ahead, Blair, and tell Simon what you’ve decided to do about guide training.”

Blushing again now, Blair looked a little nervous as he anticipated Banks’ possible reaction.  Praying that the big man would accept his reasoning, he said, “I’ve decided that I’d like to go to Rainier rather than the Academy, sir.  The Academy Guide Training programme is very good, but it’s for guides who expect to end up as cops, and I don’t think I could do that.  I don’t think I could ever carry a gun, sir,” and he looked apologetically from Simon to Jim and back.  He could tell from Banks’ frown that that wasn’t what the other man had wanted to hear, so he hurried on, hoping to stave off any forthcoming disapproval.

“Um, I’ve talked a lot with Dean Wilson, sir.  When he called to ask about Eli’s bequest.  He said that he’d spoken to some of Eli’s friends who tutored me, and he has Eli’s own written references, which apparently were very detailed.  He said that, despite my lack of formal certification, as long as I pass the entrance exam, he sees no reason why I shouldn’t be accepted into the Anthropology Department, which also runs the Guide Training programme.  If I take Sentinel Studies, and Forensic Anthropology, and get formal training too, I’ll be able to help Jim when I’m not in class.  And if I do well, maybe I could end up as a consultant to the PD, so I’ll be able to ride with Jim when I’m old enough.  Because that’s what I want to do, sir.  To ride with Jim and be his official partner and guide.”

Sitting back in his seat as Blair wound down, Simon regarded the young man thoughtfully for a few moments while he pondered the kid’s proposals.  He had to admit that he was impressed by the youngster’s determination and the fact that he had obviously put a great deal of thought into his options.  And it didn’t hurt that Ellison was plainly in full accord with his guide.  Deciding not to keep either of them in suspense any longer, he leaned forward again and rested his elbows on his desk as he leaned his chin on his linked fingers.

“OK.  OK, Guide Sandburg.  I freely admit I hadn’t expected you to have come up with such a lot of information in such a short time.  And to make informed choices based on it.  I can see why you’d prefer the university option, even though I’d personally prefer an academy-trained cop partner for Jim.  But if you eventually did specialise in post-graduate Sentinel and Forensic studies, I don’t see why you couldn’t be employed as an official consultant.  Which would give you a lot more money than just a guide’s stipend, for sure.

“But, assuming you get accepted to start in the Fall, and you divide your time between the U and the PD, will Jim be able to manage in the field?  I can’t risk having him zone without his guide to ground him.”

Here Jim patted Blair’s knee reassuringly as he took up the discussion, needing to support his young guide even as he needed to convince Simon of his beliefs.

“Well, as to that, sir, as you already know, our working bond is set and strong.  Although it’s true that I can’t use my senses to their fullest extent without Blair physically at my side, I can control them in the field now as well as before.  Better, in fact, because I have little pain and no need for dampening meds.  As long as I can get together with Blair regularly during the day, my performance will stay at least as good as before, probably better.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Banks turned his full attention on Blair.  “So, how about you, son?  Can you manage without Jim?”

“I think so, sir.  I mean, I’ve had to repress my empathy for most of my life, and Eli ensured that over the last few years stimulation was kept to a minimum.  I think that I’ll be fine, as long as we can meet up as often as possible.  I can help ground Jim’s senses, and he can boost my empathic shields.  Of course, it would be different if we had the full bond,” and he blushed and looked down at his hands, shy again.

“And why is that?” Simon asked more gently than even he expected, unaccustomedly sympathetic towards the young man.   He knew enough about the phenomenon in theory, but wanted to hear it from his men in their own words.

It was Jim who answered first, smiling kindly at his guide, and wanting to help him out.

“It’s OK, Chief.  I’ll take it from here,” and Blair smiled gratefully up at him.

“As I understand it, captain, once we complete the full bond things will be both better – and worse - in one sense.  The full bond means that the empathic link between us will be created, and both Blair’s empathy and my senses will be greatly enhanced.  I’ll know where Blair is, and be able to trace him anywhere.  Not exactly telepathy, but we’ll be in each other’s heads, so to speak.  But we’ll be completely interdependent, sir.  It’s a symbiotic relationship.  Blair’s normal barriers will be gone, and he’ll need my shielding permanently to prevent him overloading on emotional input, and I’ll need his touch to ground me and stop me from zoning when I use my senses fully.  As a team, we’ll be great, sir.  But it’ll take time and practice to determine how long we’ll be able to stay apart without damage to either one of us.”

“A double-edged sword indeed, then,” murmured Simon, almost to himself.  “But one which could be of great benefit to the department.”  Regarding both men frankly, he said, “I can see why so many guides choose not to come forward, Blair.  It’s a huge commitment to make, tying yourself to one person for life.  And if you’re still intent on doing so when the time comes, who am I to deny the gift of your loyalty to Jim?

“So, in the meantime, we’ll try it your way.  I’ll give my conditional approval for Blair to start work in the bullpen, and get used to the procedures and clerical side of police work.  Once you’ve begun your formal training, you’ll be expected to divide your time between the university and the PD, and we’ll take it from there.  But there’ll be no going out in the field with Jim until I consider you to be old enough, OK?” he finished with a repressive glare.

And Blair was so relieved to have received Banks’ go-ahead, even the fierce expression couldn’t dampen his joy, and his wide smile lit up the room.

Even Simon couldn’t remain unaffected by the guide’s happiness, so he simply waved his hand in dismissal, growling, “Go, take the rest of the week, and I’ll see you both here on Monday morning, ready to get some work done!”

Gathering up his guide with alacrity, Jim replied, “Sir, yes, sir!” and they left the office before the captain could change his mind.

\---------------------------------

**That night, Mayor Anderson’s mansion:**

A smug and self-satisfied grin on his rather porcine face, Wayne Anderson settled back in his favourite armchair, a snifter of expensive brandy clutched in one hand and an as yet unlit Cuban cigar in the other.  He was taking the opportunity to relax in his den after the conclusion of another successful evening’s entertainment, and he smiled benignly at his remaining guests.

Anderson was in the habit of holding frequent dinner and drinks parties for the great and good of Cascade, for the purpose of both keeping in with the movers and shakers in the business world, and currying favour with those with social and political clout.  Consistent favourable publicity and current information was everything, and he had every intention of keeping ahead of the game.  He greatly enjoyed the honour and power embodied in his appointed position, and intended to hang on to it for as long as possible.

Content with the results of his latest hospitable venture, he waved the hand holding the cigar in a magnanimous sweep, encompassing the three other men who had joined him for a nightcap.

“Anyone care for a cigar?  I have to say that this latest batch certainly lives up to expectations!  Can’t do better than Cuban, I always say.  Goes well with the brandy,” and he chuckled complacently, his jowls shaking at the action.  Downing his drink, one of his guests set down his empty glass and stood up.

“No thank you, Wayne.” Chief Warren refused the offer, mouth pursed primly in barely-concealed disapproval.  “And I didn’t hear you mention ‘Cuban’,” he added, not entirely jokingly.  “I’ll say goodnight, and thank you for a most enjoyable evening, as usual,” and he nodded to the others present and left the room, collecting his coat on the way out.

Watching his departing back, Anderson’s expression darkened.  “Sanctimonious bastard,” he muttered as he looked around him, gauging his remaining two guests’ reactions.

Leon DuRoy simply sniffed in well-bred disdain as he took Anderson up on his offer, and reached into the box of ultra-expensive cigars on the table.  “Don’t let it get to you, Anderson,” he drawled as he chose one, languidly rolling it between his fingers as he breathed in appreciatively.  “The man has his uses, and we wouldn’t want him to find out about our extra-curricular activities now, would we?”

“True enough,” agreed Commissioner O’Malley, although with considerably less aplomb.  “It does no harm to have a moral and virtuous prig like Warren to hide behind, even if he has no inkling that he’s being used.  But we can’t afford to get careless, gentlemen.  He’s no fool, and he’s already suspicious of the possible sources interfering with his precious Task Force.”

“Nothing he can pin down, I’m sure,” Anderson huffed, aggrieved at the notion.  “Anyhow, now he’s left, are you going to tell us what progress has been made?  It’s been far too long since our last ‘consignment’.  We have orders to fill!”

Sitting back and taking his first unhurried puff of the fragrant cigar, despite his apparent indolence DuRoy fixed them with a sharp and perceptive stare.  “Well, as to that, my friends, I can report that I’ve been in contact with Roscov’s main US representative, and he assures me that our friend Dmitri does, in fact, have a suitable consignment ready for shipping.  But whether Cascade is chosen as its destination will depend entirely on our containing the Task Force.  We can’t afford to let up on local intimidation, and I’m relying on you, O’Malley, to keep an eye on developments within the PD.  The FBI isn’t a problem as we all know, as long as SAC Greenwood remains in charge, and I know the Governor is looking forward eagerly to his share in the profits.

“So, gentlemen, as long as we continue to be vigilant, Roscov is prepared to use Cascade’s established pipe-line.  But any hint of compromise, and he’ll go elsewhere.  And he made it very clear that he had several other options.  And I for one don’t want to see that happen!” The cruel determination and pure greed in DuRoy’s gaze was enough to sober his companions, and Anderson actually shivered a little at the menace the man exuded.

“No, no, of course not!” he blustered.  “None of us want that, Leon.  Goes without saying!” and he smiled a little nervously, suddenly intent on diverting DuRoy’s attention to something a little less contentious, at least, as far as he personally was concerned.

“By the way, Leon, how is your son?  And have you made any progress in acquiring that ‘cure’ you were looking for?”

Uncomfortable for his own reasons, O’Malley cut in quickly.  “In case you’re interested, that young man we saw at the funeral – Stoddard’s heir.  Did you know that the sentinel he’s bonded with – Detective Ellison – is William Ellison’s oldest son?  That’s William Ellison of Ellison Enterprises, Inc.  I mean, the man has connections...” and his voice trailed off as DuRoy’s cold and contemptuous stare fixed on him.   

“If that’s your idea of warning me off getting my hands on that guide, O’Malley, you can forget it,” Leon responded sharply, tone steeped in calculated threat.  “Of course I know of Ellison’s family connections!  But I also know that William Ellison has been estranged from his son for many years, and I don’t anticipate any trouble from that quarter.  I doubt he even knows that ‘young Jimmy’ has found himself a guide, so I’m sure he won’t care if the good Detective loses him again.

“So don’t worry on my account,” he continued, smiling grimly at his listeners.  “My plan remains the same, and procedures are in place for my son’s ‘cure’ to be delivered within the next few days.”

And both his companions knew better than to question him further.

\----------------------------------

**Following morning, Blair’s house:**

Jim and Blair stood in the middle of the library, gazing around them, and each lost in his own thoughts.  Jim had his arm wrapped lightly around Blair’s waist, offering tacit comfort and support to his guide, at the same time as reaping the benefit from the grounding touch.  He knew that Blair’s emotional state was precarious at the moment, so concentrated on sending his most calming ‘vibes’ to his guide while considering his own feelings as objectively as possible.

For the first time, he and Blair had elected to stay in the house overnight, and it had to be said that Jim quite enjoyed the experience.  The faded gentility of the neighbourhood and the buffer provided by the large garden ensured that the night passed quietly, insulated from unnecessary traffic noises and undisturbed by raucous neighbours.  And ensconced once again in his own familiar room, safe in the knowledge that Jim slept close by, Blair had also had a better night than expected; although Jim admitted somewhat ruefully to himself that he had missed having a warm bundle of guide seeking the sanctuary of his arms from the demons in the dark.

This morning, however, Blair had to face the prospect of seeing Eli’s bequest being prepared for shipment to Rainier, although it was going to take some time to complete in the manner suggested by Dean Wilson, and willingly agreed to by Blair himself.  It was undoubtedly the concept of a room stripped of its familiar aspect of book-laden shelves and over-stuffed display cabinets that disturbed his guide, although never in a resentful or mean-spirited way.  It was simply that the library would lose much of its cosiness and purpose until Jim and Blair gradually remedied the situation – something that both of them were determined to do over the coming years.

In the meantime, Blair was more than thrilled with the actual number of books Eli had left him.  Having studied the list provided by Guildford, Blair realised that virtually all Eli’s favourite tomes, plus those he thought of particular interest to Blair, had been ear-marked for his almost-son.  In fact it encompassed all those Eli had kept in his own bedroom for easy access, and nearly all those in his office at Rainier.  A couple of hundred books that Blair was delighted to own, and, in the light of the munificence of Eli’s bequest to Rainier, Dean Wilson was hardly disposed to be churlish about those left in Blair’s keeping.

Moving his hand up to squeeze Blair’s shoulder, Jim broke their shared introspection, asking gently, “You OK with this, Chief?  I know it’s going to be hard for you to see all these catalogued and crated.  Are you intending to get involved, or just watch from a distance, so to speak?”

Turning to smile a little sadly up at Jim, Blair thought for a moment before saying, “You know, I actually think I’ll be alright – eventually, at least.  I think it was a good idea of Dean Wilson’s to suggest sending a grad student over here to catalogue everything before shipping it over to Rainier in smaller amounts.  It’ll save them an awful lot of trouble at the U, not getting the whole lot in one go.  And it gives me time to get used to the idea of seeing Eli’s treasures go to a good home where they’ll be appreciated.  And perhaps I’ll be allowed to help?  I think I’d like that, if the student agrees,” and he looked around him again, his expression wistful.

“Well, I for one think he or she’ll jump at the chance, Chief.  After all, you know far more than they do about where everything is, so you could save them even more time and trouble.  When is this student due to arrive anyhow?”

“I think a bit later this morning, according to Dean Wilson.  He asked if I could show him – or her – around, and once we’re all happy with the arrangements, they’ll come more or less on a daily basis until the job’s done.  Is that OK with you?” he finished a little timidly, seeking reassurance that Jim didn’t consider it too much of an imposition.

“It’s no problem, kiddo.  After all, it’s your house now, and you have every right to oversee the disposition of Eli’s bequest.  I’ll stick around and help out in whatever way I can, OK?”  And Blair’s response was to smile and hug him, humming in pleasure as Jim hugged him back.

\-----------------------------------

Less than an hour later, a knock on the door announced the arrival of Dean Wilson’s student, and Blair hurried to open it, his smile of welcome shy but warm.  The young man standing on the front step was grinning hugely as he held out his hand for Blair to shake.  “Hi, Mr Sandburg?  My name’s Sam.  Sam Okundu, at your service!   Dean Wilson sent me to catalogue Dr Stoddard’s collection.  That OK with you?  I mean, the doc was a great guy, and I guess you must miss him a lot, huh?”  Then, taking in Blair’s bemused expression, he laughed merrily.  “Oh, man, sorry!  I get carried away.  Don’t know when to shut up.  You sure you’re OK?”

Shaking himself out of his momentary funk, Blair nodded wordlessly as he quickly studied the student.  Sam was about his own height, a few years older, and plainly a bundle of energy as he bounced on his toes, unworried at Blair’s tongue-tied inspection.  His attractive, dark-skinned face was lit by sparkling brown eyes behind wire-framed spectacles, and a wide smile displaying even white teeth.  Tight black curls were clipped close to his skull, and his slim but sturdy frame was dressed in faded jeans, clean but scruffy sneakers and a shabby brown overcoat, under which Blair caught a glimpse of a brightly coloured shirt.  Briefly dropping his barriers, he ‘read’ the young man, finding nothing but friendliness and curiosity.

Belatedly realising he was still staring rudely, and must appear at the very least like some sort of idiot, Blair quickly shook the offered hand, stammering, “Uh, sorry.  Uh, yeah, I’m Blair Sandburg.  Pleased to meet you, Mr Okundu.  Um, please come in.”  He stood aside to let the still smiling young man in, and continued self-consciously, “I’m sorry.  I’m not used to meeting people yet.  I really am OK with you being here, honestly.  I mean, it’s good that Eli’s collection can be sorted and packed properly...” then he ducked his head.  “I’m sorry, I’m babbling aren’t I?” and he looked around, desperately seeking support from Jim who was still in the library but who would undoubtedly have listened in and heard his pathetic excuse at introducing himself.  

However, even as Jim approached, Sam himself defused the situation.  Gently touching Blair’s arm to attract his attention, he said, “Hey, Mr Sandburg, it’s OK.  Don’t worry about me, man.  I understand how hard it is for you.  I mean, I just appreciate the opportunity to work here, and I’ll try to keep out of your way as much as I can, OK?” and Blair met his kind gaze and relaxed slightly.  As Jim reached his side and casually wrapped an arm around his waist, Blair’s smile became warm and genuine as his eyes lost their wide and somewhat panicked stare.  Looking from Sam to Jim and back, he swallowed and tried again, more confidently this time.

“Jim, this is Sam Okundu.  Mr Okundu, this is Detective Jim Ellison.  My Sentinel,” and he blushed endearingly in shy pride at the statement.  As the two men shook hands, Jim offered his own welcome now that he was sure Blair was really OK.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr Okundu.  And please call me Jim.”

“And I’m Sam,” came the cheerful response.  “Very happy to be here!  Can I see the collection, please?” he added, his excitement and enthusiasm charming rather than insolent.

“Please, come this way,” replied Blair, much calmer now.  “And please call me Blair.  If I can help you at all, I’d be very happy to do so,” he offered diffidently as he and Jim watched Sam’s reaction as he entered the library and got his first look at the collection.

“Wow!  Oh, man!  This is so cool!  I mean, Dean Wilson told me what to expect, but this is so much better!  I’m one lucky guy to work with all this.”  He turned slowly in a three-sixty degree circle, eyes full of genuine appreciation as he took in the room.  However, by the time he was facing Blair again, his expression was one of compassion and understanding.

“This is amazing, Blair, and I’m humbled to have been asked to work here.  And seeing it _in situ_ , so to speak, I really can appreciate your willingness to work with Rainier.  And yes, I’ll be more than grateful for any help you can give me, as long as it’s not too hard on you.”

And watching the two young men interact, Jim instinctively knew that everything was going to be alright, and that there was a real friendship in the making.  And he was more than happy for his guide’s sake.  The young man had had little in the way of interaction with like-minded people from his own age group, and as a learning experience and potential friend, Sam couldn’t have been a better choice.

\--------------------------------------------

Since it was around mid-morning that Thursday when Sam arrived, he and Blair spent the next couple of hours with Blair showing Sam the lie of theland, so to speak.  As he didn’t want to intrude on the two young men’s business, Jim made himself scarce and took himself off to the kitchen to prepare the makings for a simple lunch of soup and salad.  Although he didn’t want to invade Blair’s privacy, he couldn’t quite prevent himself from listening in, telling himself that he needed to be aware should his guide get upset again.  But that hardly seemed likely, since Sam’s easy-going nature and uninhibited chatter had soon put Blair at ease, and Jim was secretly thrilled to hear his guide’s occasional giggle and happy response.  After a while, Jim began to think that, given a normal and more free-spirited lifestyle rather than the forced repression and seclusion to which Blair had been compelled to adhere, he would have been far more like Sam.  The flashes of glee and witty rejoinders suggested a naturally outgoing and inquisitive personality, and Jim could only hope that he would be able to help Blair develop into the person he should be.

He was also interested to learn that Blair was a fast and accurate typist, and computer literate.  When Blair quietly offered his services to Sam, he had admitted that he had done a lot of research for Eli, and had taken on a lot of the older man’s secretarial duties, especially as Eli grew weaker and less able to manage on his own.  Of course, he had never been able to do anything on his own account, but had used Eli’s passwords and email to accomplish whatever was needed.   Jim couldn’t help but think that he could be on to a good thing, as long as Blair was willing, since he hated computers and his laborious two-finger typing meant that his reports were grudgingly produced and succinct to say the least.

Seeing it was approaching 1300 hours – Jim still couldn’t get out of the military mindset when it came to telling the time – he entered the library and invited both Blair and Sam to come and join him for lunch.

Both young men agreed with alacrity, and it was a happy and relaxed threesome who enjoyed the simple but tasty repast. 

The conversation during lunch flowed freely, with all three of them at ease with each other.  Although Blair was reticent as usual regarding his upbringing, Sam had no problem entertaining Jim and Blair with tales about his early life in Nigeria before emigrating to America to escape from a military uprising, and obtaining a much-desired opportunity to study anthropology at Rainier.  He openly admitted that he had relied on part-time jobs and loans to see him through his undergrad degree, cheerfully if wistfully bemoaning the fact that, without some other form of support, his dreams of pursuing a Master’s and doctorate would be very unlikely.  And at that point, although he kept silent other than offering his sympathy, Jim couldn’t help but think that Sam was ear-marked to be the first recipient of Eli’s new scholarship....

After lunch, the two younger men returned to the library while Jim occupied himself with touring the house, making a list of routine maintenance jobs to keep him busy over the next few days.  Still listening in, even though he was impressed with Sam and trusted him not to upset Blair deliberately, he realised that the two had progressed to looking at Eli’s collection of artefacts.  Blair shyly produced a large, leather-bound ledger in which Eli had painstakingly logged in every piece obtained during his long career, explaining that in recent years he had copied everything into an electronic database, which he was happy to share with Sam.  Although he didn’t really want to let go of the ledger as it had meant so much to Eli and to him also, Blair knew it ought to accompany the collection to Rainier.

“Hey, man, this is great.  You’ve done a fantastic job with the database, saved me no end of work.  And I truly appreciate the ledger, Blair.  I do understand, believe me, how much it must cost you to hand it over, but I can assure you it’ll be well looked after at the U.  Dr Stoddard was highly thought of, and is already greatly missed.  He was the best lecturer and tutor I ever had, and it’s because of him that I decided that, if I can ever afford to continue, I’d like to pursue my Master’s and doctorate in Sentinel Studies.  Or, more importantly, Guide Studies.  There’s still far too little work done on guides.  Dr Stoddard was very forthright on the topic.  But then, you’d know that!” he added with a chuckle.  When Blair smiled softly in response, Sam regarded him speculatively for a moment, plainly weighing up the suitability of his next proposal, as he certainly didn’t want to distress his new young friend.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you, if you don’t mind, Blair,’” he began.  “If it upsets you at all, just tell me to shut up, and I’ll say no more about it, but I do have something I’d like to run by you.”  Blair regarded him inquisitively, with just a touch of apprehension, but he nodded anyway, indicating that Sam continue.

“OK, well, it’s like this.  As I said, if I can do it, and get my topic accepted, would you allow me to study you?  I mean,” he added quickly, when it looked as if Blair was about to refuse, “You are undoubtedly a strong guide.  I can tell that by the way you interact with Jim.  He’s an Alpha, isn’t he?  So you have to be a top-ranked empath as well as personally compatible.  If you would allow me to subject you to a range of tests – nothing awful, I promise - it would be an honour to write about you, but I assure you it would be anonymous.  And I wouldn’t submit anything until you’d read it and approved it.

“Look, you don’t have to answer now.  Hell, I might never get the chance to do any post-grad stuff anyhow.  Just think about it, huh?  Just in case....”

And although shaken by the concept, especially his unworthiness as a research subject, Blair hadn’t the heart to turn him down flat.

Upstairs in the bedroom he’d been occupying, Jim frowned at what he’d heard.  Blair had already undergone ‘testing’ as a child, and undoubtedly wouldn’t have particularly fond memories of the process.  But then again, he hadn’t either freaked out or refused Sam point blank, so perhaps he would consider it eventually.  And it might just boost his confidence in his own ability in the long run.  But it wasn’t a decision to be made lightly, and they had time enough to think about it.

\--------------------------------

It was late evening by the time Sam finally dragged himself away from the library, grinning apologetically as he took his leave.  He had turned down Jim’s offer of joining them for dinner as he told them his Mom was expecting him.  Not being able to afford student accommodation, he was still living at home with his widowed mother, and it was plain that they enjoyed a good relationship.

“See you tomorrow morning, Blair.  Is 8.00 am too early?” and when both Blair and Jim confirmed it was fine, he waved cheerfully and ran over to his beat-up old Corvair.  As he drove off, badly-tuned engine complaining somewhat, Jim looked down at his guide, who was tucked under his arm.  “You know, I guess you’ll be needing to learn to drive, huh, Chief?  Eli’s car is still in the garage, and you won’t want to rely on me giving you lifts every time you need to go out.”  And he was completely taken by surprise when Blair blushed and looked down at his feet.

“Um, actually, I can drive, Jim.  I don’t have a licence, of course, and I’ve never driven on public roads, honest,” he added hurriedly, needing to reassure his sentinel that Eli hadn’t been breaking the law, in that respect at least.

“It’s just that, when he could arrange it, he’d take me for some sort of holiday, usually a self-catering cabin in a quiet resort in the middle of nowhere, well away from prying eyes.  And he taught me to drive on the private tracks around the grounds.  I know I’ll need to practice driving in traffic, but I don’t think it’ll take me too long to pass my test.  I’ve already learned the theory and memorised the State Traffic laws....” 

He peeked up at Jim to gauge the older man’s reaction, and was relieved when Jim just chuckled fondly, saying, “You’re just full of surprises, kiddo!  So, how about we go out for dinner?  Fancy Olivetti’s?  I have a sudden urge to indulge in some good pasta.” 

Grinning happily, Blair nodded, already looking forward to the prospect, and as they prepared to set out, neither of them had any idea that prying eyes were actually following their every move.

\--------------------------------

Two of Leon DuRoy’s most successful ‘handymen’ sat in their non-descript panel van, listening in to every word.  They had been ordered to tail the pair since the day after DuRoy had seen the boy at Stoddard’s funeral, and had been provided with the best surveillance equipment money could buy to do the job.  They were also practiced in the intricacies involved in following a sentinel, thanks to learning the hard way through observing the example provided by Leon DuRoy Junior’s recent manifestation, so weren’t prepared to risk either their substantial bonus – or possible ‘dismissal with extreme prejudice’ – by screwing up.  Working in tandem, and using different vehicles where necessary, they had tailed Jim and Blair undetected from the loft to Stoddard’s house, to the PD, and occasional locations in between, establishing a routine as best they could and determining the best place from which to abduct the guide.  When the state-of-the-art directional mic informed them that the pair was spending the next few days at Stoddard’s house overseeing the transfer of Rainier’s bequest, they relayed the information to DuRoy, who received it with malicious satisfaction.

“Perfect!  We should have until Sunday to effect the capture.  Stay in the area, and keep me informed of everything.  Who goes in, who goes out, etc., etc.  This shouldn’t be hard to set up.  They’ve actually made it surprisingly easy for me...” and he had laughed unpleasantly before cutting the connection.

So his men had found a secure place in which to park up – the well-hidden driveway of a neighbouring property whose occupants were on an extended vacation – looking, to anyone who might be interested – as if they were there to do routine maintenance in the owners’ absence.

Sure, such stakeouts could be duller than ditchwater, but, in this instance, the lure of a lucrative reward, and the opportunity to play with DuRoy’s uber-expensive technology, made up for it.  And it never hurt to raise their standing in their powerful employer’s eyes.  There was a modicum of security to be had in making oneself indispensible.

\-----------------------------------

**Sunday morning, Blair’s house:**

At 8.00am sharp, Sam knocked on the front door, to be greeted by a smiling Blair.  This time he was accompanied by two undergrads, who had volunteered to help begin the packing of the collection in readiness for transportation to its new home in Rainier’s Hargrove Hall.  The fact that the task of cataloguing the collection had progressed so quickly to reach this stage was undoubtedly due to the long hours put in over the past two and a half days by Blair and Sam, and the work already put in place by Eli and Blair.   Thanks to the existence of Eli’s ledger, Blair’s updated database and also his personal familiarity with the contents of the library, Sam had been able to accomplish his assignment in double-quick time; an achievement greatly appreciated by Dean Wilson and the Anthropology Department as a whole.

While Blair and Sam had worked side by side in the library, Jim had kept himself occupied by completing the DIY tasks he had set himself to do, preparing snacks to force on the two younger men, since neither of them were inclined to surface voluntarily from their labours for anything as mundane as eating, and making himself available for any other occasion where he could be of assistance.  He surprised himself with his own relaxed affability, although he realised that it had a lot to do with Blair and how his guide was holding up under his self-imposed undertaking.

Although there was a certain poignancy involved in the task, Blair was also being given the opportunity to interact with a personable young man, who was more than willing to accept Blair’s shyly-offered help and return his friendship.  The fact that he felt needed and appreciated outside of his guiding duties did a world of good for Blair’s self-confidence, and Jim’s open support bolstered that even further.

And once Sam finally departed each evening, despite his tiredness Blair would give his whole attention to his sentinel, needing to show how much he loved and appreciated the older man; a gift Jim was only too happy to receive.   

After dinner they would retire to the library, which, although now in a state of some disarray, had managed somehow to retain its feel of cosy intimacy, especially cuddled together on the largest and softest of the leather sofas.

And that was a habit that had become an unexpected pleasure for them both, as Jim had felt drawn to mention the previous evening.

\----------------------------------

Looking down at the curly head nestled against his shoulder, he smiled gently at his drowsy guide, who appeared more relaxed and contented than Jim would ever have expected to witness going by his first impression only weeks previously.

“Comfy, Chief?” he asked softly, stroking a gentle hand over the silky curls.  Receiving a tiny nod and a lethargic “Uh huh,” in response, he snickered, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then.”  Rousing slightly from his unorthodox pillow, Blair squinted up at him, eyes still sleepy but with a hint of curiosity and something else in the blue depths.

“Are you comfy, Jim?  I’m not getting too heavy, am I?”

Replying quickly before Blair could get worried again, Jim grinned and continued, “No, not at all, Chief.  I was just thinking how nice this is.  Can’t say I was ever encouraged to cuddle before, so I’ve never had any inclination to do it.  But with you it just seems right.  Neither know nor care whether it’s a sentinel / guide thing or a Jim / Blair thing, or a bit of both.  I just know I’m getting thoroughly addicted to it!”

Smiling at Jim’s reassuring words, Blair relaxed again, then responded softly, “This is actually fairly new to me too.  I mean, I had a good upbringing, truly, and Martha and Aaron were more than kind to me.  But they were from a generation who didn’t go in for unnecessary hugging and such.  Understated rather than demonstrative, if you know what I mean.  They’d give me a hug to comfort me if I fell over and hurt myself, and they were never too busy to give me a kiss goodnight, but they didn’t really cuddle for the sake of it.  And to begin with Eli was a little uncomfortable with too much contact, although I knew he was fond of me.  That did change towards the end, though,” he added, sadness now clouding his expression.  “We got so much closer when he was getting weaker, and he said he wished he’d cuddled me more when he first rescued me, but he hadn’t been sure I’d’ve appreciated it.  As a confirmed bachelor, he hadn’t had much previous experience with little kids and young teens, after all!” and he chuckled fondly, eyes a little watery.  “I think he found older teens and students much easier to deal with! 

“But I do like this, Jim,” he admitted, face now suffused with shy pleasure as he rubbed his cheek gently against Jim’s shirt.  “I feel so safe.  So loved,” and he tucked his head into Jim’s shoulder again.

“Glad to hear it, babe,” Jim murmured.  “Now, I think it’s time for us to get some real sleep.  Big day tomorrow, and if all goes well, I think we’ll see the job pretty much done.”  And Blair nodded his agreement as he allowed Jim to pull him gently to his feet before making their way up to separate beds.

\---------------------------------------

As Sam and his student helpers entered, returning Blair’s friendly greetings good-naturedly, Jim emerged from the library, a broad grin on his face.

“Hey, Sam!  Got your willing slaves with you I see,” and he snickered at the mock-disgruntled comments from the two undergrads.

“Let me know what you need doing, and I’ll be happy to help.  I can at least help you with shifting the heavy stuff.  Meanwhile, I’m going to the kitchen.  Anyone for bacon rolls a bit later?” and at the enthusiastic chorus of ‘yes pleases’ and ‘you betcha, Jims’, he waved cheerily and headed off to retrieve the bacon from the freezer.

With everyone working non-stop – except for a brief pause to enjoy the promised bacon rolls and even briefer ones for the other snacks and drinks Jim produced to be more or less consumed on the run – by mid-afternoon the packing was finished and boxes labelled, ready to be transported to Rainier.   The tired but contented group sat together in the library, enjoying a last cold drink and a few minutes’ relaxation before the three students headed for home.

Gazing around him in unfeigned satisfaction and honest pleasure in a job well done, Sam smiled and addressed Blair and Jim.  “I can’t thank you enough, Blair.  And you too, Jim, for all the help you’ve given us.  This should have been at least a weeks’ work, if not more, if I’d have had to do it all myself.  I know it’ll have been tough for you, Blair, but I’ve got to say that you’ve been great.  And I really hope to see you at Rainier in the Fall.  You’re destined to be a brilliant anthropologist, I’m sure of it.  And a great guide also.  Hell, you’re pretty great already, even without the formal training!  So, just wanted to thank you again, and I’ll be on my way.  I’ll let Dean Wilson know we’re done with the packing, and I’m sure he’ll arrange for a pick-up as soon as possible, so you can get back to normal.”

As all three students stood up to leave, he shook Jim’s hand, and pulled Blair in for a quick but warm hug.  “See you soon, my man!” he said, and once the other two had said their own goodbyes, they piled into the ancient Corvair, and drove away, waving cheerfully at Jim and Blair, who stood, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, watching them go.

“You OK, Junior?” Jim enquired, suddenly realising that yet again he hadn’t called his guide by his given name.  Although Blair never mentioned it, or even seemed to notice, Jim resolved to change his ways.  The kid had enough to deal with without being addressed by a string of nicknames, however kindly meant.

As he might have expected, Blair looked up at him, his usual soft smile on his face.  “Yeah, I am, Jim.  Honestly.  I feel – I don’t know – sort of energised?  I mean, it was hard, in a way, to see Eli’s things boxed up, but it’s what he wanted, so who am I to bemoan that?  He gave me so much, both in care and safety, as well as all this,” and he gestured around him to encompass the whole residence.  “And he gave me the chance to meet you. I’m one lucky guide.  I have you.  The best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“Me too, Blair,” replied Jim with feeling.  Then he tensed a little, causing Blair to look up at him, a small frown creasing his brow.

“You OK, Jim?” he asked softly, automatically rubbing Jim’s upper arm to ground him.

After a few moments, Jim looked down at him, a perplexed expression marring his patrician features.

“Not sure, Blair.  I just get this feeling that I – we’re - being watched.  It’s nothing I can pin down.  More an instinct, I guess.  But I’ve felt it before.  I didn’t want to mention it, because it’s really nothing concrete, and I didn’t want to worry you.  But I did mention it to Joel when he called yesterday.  He sends his regards, by the way,” he added, wanting to alleviate Blair’s instinctive concern.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t call in later on his way home from work.  I hope you don’t mind.  He’s going to love this place, and he’s really taken with you, Chief – Blair.”

“No, I don’t mind at all, Jim.  I like Joel, and it would be nice to see him.  But are you OK?  Can I do anything to help?  You know, ground you while you use your senses?”

“You’re doing a pretty good job of that already, babe.  But as I said, if there is someone out there, they know how to keep under a sentinel radar!  And it’s nothing specific anyway.  But as a matter of interest, how well do you know your neighbours, Blair?  It’s a quiet area, but is it quieter than usual?”

“Um, I’m sorry, Jim, but I don’t really know.  It looks about the same to me, but I only ever observed the area from the upstairs windows.  Eli didn’t really socialise much with anyone local, mostly because of me, I guess, but when I apologised for spoiling things for him, he said it suited him as he wasn’t a ‘neighbourly’ type.  He preferred the company of his chosen friends, and most of them were from Rainier or other academic circles.  I mean, he knew his neighbours by name, and was always polite to them if he met them, but he never went out of his way to develop friendships.  And I never went out unless it was hidden in Eli’s car.  I don’t think they ever knew about me.  Probably most of them still don’t.”

Distracted by the underlying if subconscious sadness in Blair’s voice, Jim squeezed his guide comfortingly for a moment.  “Well, I’m sure you’ll soon remedy that, babe.  I know you’ve got a lot of lost time to make up, but I’m guessing that between us we might well shake up this neighbourhood just like we will the PD!  Now, shall we kick back for a few and see if there’s a Jags match on the TV?  I think we both deserve a bit of down-time.”  And Blair smiled happily as he allowed his sentinel to steer him back inside.

\---------------------------------------

**Sunday evening, a short distance from Blair’s house:**

A mere block away from where Blair and Jim relaxed in front of the TV, DuRoy’s paid hitmen sat in silence in the cab of their latest vehicle.  They now occupied a large van, complete with decals advertising a well-known delivery firm, and were attired in the company’s authentic overalls.  This vehicle was deliberately devoid of the sophisticated surveillance equipment they had used in their previous van, but they had kept as careful a watch as possible since the changeover.  Although they had worked together previously, and were familiar with each other’s capability, they were hardly on friendly terms despite long hours cooped up together on stakeout.  In their chosen profession, all they needed to know was how far they could trust the other for backup, after which point it was every man for himself.  Neither needed to be handicapped with worrying about the other except insofar as it could impinge on his own safety.   The tension in the cab was palpable as they psyched themselves up for the upcoming snatch, and eventually one turned to the other.

The driver of the vehicle, a large, well-muscled but otherwise ordinary-looking man in his late twenties, eyed his companion, a grim half-smile on his face as he said, “You good to go, then, Brad?  No one’s driven past since the kids left, so I reckon they’re alone now, and settled in for the night.”

His equally unremarkable-looking companion returned the grin, eyes narrowed and expression greedy as he replied, “I’m good.  Don’t think it’s going to get any better than this, and we’ve got our bases covered anyway if Ellison’s suspicious.  Let’s get this done, and get out of here.  And if the kid’s as good as the boss thinks he is, I’m betting on him being suitably appreciative!”  The driver nodded once noncommittally, and started up, driving unhurriedly towards their destination.

Lounging comfortably in the library, having just watched the Jags win by the skin of their teeth, Jim and Blair desultorily discussed what would be the easiest option for dinner.  Neither had the energy to cook a gourmet repast, or even go out to eat, so they had more or less decided on frozen pizza, knowing that Eli had always kept a good stock in the freezer.  Suddenly, Jim sat up straighter in his seat; head cocked in a listening pose.

“Think we’ve got visitors, Blair,” he muttered, a frown creasing his brow.  “Whoever it is, they’re driving something sizable, so it’s not Joel.  Stay here while I go see who it is, OK?” and Blair nodded in reluctant assent, even though his curiosity and his guide instinct demanded he accompany Jim to the door.

Crossing the hall, Jim paused to retrieve his service weapon which he had stashed in a drawer in the ornate hallstand, stuffing it in the belt at his back.  Opening his senses as far as he dared, he approached the door to peer through the peephole.  He noted the delivery van parked up in the driveway, and studied the two men who stood on the porch, both apparently unassuming and untroubled and dressed in standard overalls.  One of them made a show of nonchalantly studying the clipboard clutched in his hand while his companion reached for the intercom.  Answering the buzz, Jim demanded, “Who are you, and what do you want at this time of night?”

Despite their relaxed attitude, sentinel senses registered slightly raised heart rates in both men, and their scents were tinged with something akin to excitement or arousal, enough to put Jim on alert.

“Uh, Mr Sandburg?” responded the man who had rung the bell.  “We’re here on behalf of Rainier University?  We were told to pick up some boxes.  Sorry it’s late, and all, but we were held up on our last job.  We’ll get it done as soon as possible, sir.  Be out of your hair in no time!”

Unimpressed by the man’s polite apology, Jim reached automatically for the weapon at his back, ready to react even as he cracked open the door.  However, just as he released the deadbolts, the man holding the clipboard raised his free hand to his face, and blew long and hard on the dog whistle concealed in his palm.  With his senses wide open, Jim was struck down by the piercing shriek, his hearing spiking uncontrollably so that he fell back, momentarily unable to react when the first man barrelled into the hallway, snapping the safety chain as if it was thread.  A sickening blow to the head finished the job, and Jim fell helpless to the floor.

“Go!  Get the kid!” the first man hissed, drawing a concealed pistol to hold on the downed detective.  His partner was already on his way across the hall, pulling his own concealed weapon as he went.  Pausing in front of the library door for a moment, he took a deep breath and pushed it open, never expecting the sort of reception he was about to get.

\-------------------------------

When Jim had gone to answer the door, although Blair had no intention of disobeying his orders to stay in the library, he instinctively knew something was wrong and was determined to back up his sentinel in any way he could.  Even as Jim had had his own suspicions, the empath in Blair could tell that the two visitors weren’t all that they claimed to be, so he quietly reached for Jim’s cellphone which he’d left on the coffee table.  As the front door crashed open, he was dialling 911, and after uttering a terse ‘Officer needs assistance’, he dropped the still open instrument back on the table, hoping that the police and rescue services would be able to trace their location through the signal.

He knew he would be of little use in a physical confrontation with their attackers, so he moved quickly to the back of the room, intending to climb out of the large window behind Eli’s desk so he could run for help.  However, the second man was already at the library door, so he turned at bay, and grabbed the round glass paperweight sitting on the desk, hefting it experimentally in his hand as he faced the door, eyes wide with fear, but also dogged resolve.  As Brad slid through the half-open door, eyes flicking rapidly around the room until he located his prey, Blair raised his arm, and let fly with the paperweight.  The heavy object struck Brad right between the eyes, and he dropped without a sound.  Sending a quick prayer of thanks to Eli, wherever he might be, for those hours of pitching practice he had encouraged Blair to do at every opportunity while they were on holiday, Blair cautiously approached the senseless would-be kidnapper, stepping over the still form to peep around the edge of the door.

He stared in horror at the tableau in the hallway.  Jim was down, blood running down his face from a scalp wound above his left temple.  A large man held a gun on him, and was looking from the detective to the library doorway, an expression of fury and disgust on his face.

“Brad!  What the fuck are you playing at?  Get that brat and get out here!”  Then, seeing Blair duck back into the library, he moved slightly so he could cover Jim and get a better view through the open door.  And saw his partner-in-crime flat on his face just inside the room.

“Shit!” he muttered to himself.  “How the fuck could that moron let a kid get the drop on him?”  Then louder, he shouted, “Get out here, you little bastard!  If you don’t want your precious sentinel to get a bullet in his brain, come on out!”

Chewing his lip in terror and consternation, Blair prepared to do as he was told, having no intention of letting the man carry out his threat.  Raising his hands, he sidled round the doorway.  “Please, don’t hurt him.  I’ll go with you, but please don’t shoot!”  He hated the quaver in his voice, but that fleeting emotion was lost in his over-riding concern for Jim, and his need to get to his sentinel’s side.

However, at that moment several things happened at once.  The sound of approaching sirens heralded units responding to Blair’s call, and as Jim began to rouse slightly, another voice cut through the scene as Joel called from where he was positioned behind the cab of the delivery van, gun at the ready as he stared intently at the house.  Despite the gathering dusk, he could see enough of the activity in the hallway to know that he had to act fast.

“Drop your weapon!  There’s no way out.  You’re surrounded, and there’re more units on the way.  Throw out your gun, and come out with your hands up!”  Although his claim wasn’t entirely true right then, it soon would be, and DuRoy’s man knew it.  But he wasn’t about to go down without a fight, so even as the other units pulled up in and around the house and grounds, he beckoned to Blair with his pistol.

“Come here, brat.  You’re coming with me.  And if the cops don’t want a dead hostage, they’ll let us out of here.  Here!  Now, or he gets it!” and he turned the gun back towards Jim.  Hurrying across the hallway to the gunman’s side, Blair prepared to be grabbed and held by the thug, when with a roar of pure primal fury Jim erupted from his position on the floor, and tackled the man.  It was over in seconds.  However skilled the thug might have been, he was no match for a covert-ops trained sentinel in full Blessed Protector mode, and it was only Blair’s panicked insistence that stopped Jim from completing his intentions and snapping the other man’s worthless neck.

“Please, Jim!  Please, no!  Don’t kill him, man.  I need you.  Please don’t get arrested for killing him!”  And Jim listened.  Throwing the virtually unconscious man to the floor at his feet, he grabbed Blair and pulled him into a full-body hug, needing to reassure himself that his guide was unhurt.  The pair was still reconnecting with each other when Joel and the other uniforms pushed in to cuff the two perps, neither of whom was in any condition to offer any resistance. 

\-----------------------------------

A short while later, Jim, Joel and Bair sat in the kitchen, while an EMT did his best to treat Jim’s scalp wound and take his vitals.  Blair was tucked tightly into Jim’s side as he rode out the worst of the shakes due to shock and reaction, although he was trying his best to hold it together.

Trying not to be too rude to the hapless medic, Jim concentrated his senses on his guide, needing to reassure himself that the youngster really was OK, and at least physically none the worse for his ordeal.

“Hey, babe, how’re you doing?” he murmured, voice full of love and concern.  “I’m so proud of you, Blair.  You did everything right, and who knew you had such a good aim?  We’ll have you on the MCU softball team for sure.”  Although Blair didn’t raise his face from where it was pressed against Jim’s neck, Jim felt the tiny smile as Blair heard his words and tried to respond as best he could.  Relaxing incrementally under the soothing pressure of Jim’s large hand rubbing gentle circles on his tense back, he gradually eased himself backwards enough to seek Jim’s reassuring gaze, and peep shyly over at Joel.

“S. S. sorry about that,” he muttered softly.   “Just hit me all of a sudden, I g. g. guess.  Um, I didn’t kill that man, did I?  I. I mean, I threw that paperweight as hard as I could.  I. I didn’t think about anything except stopping him.  But I didn’t want to kill him....”

Before Jim or Joel could respond, the medic spoke up, his patient expression and kind tone designed to offer support and put the young guide at ease.

“Try not to worry too much, Mr Sandburg.  The man you hit was still unconscious when we put him in the ambulance, but I can tell you his vital signs were all strong.  When you get to the hospital, they’ll be able to tell you more, I’m sure.  In the meantime, you should both consider going to the ER yourselves.  You’ll probably need a couple of stitches, Detective, and it would do no harm to have your guide checked out also.”

Jim glanced up at the man with grudging respect.  He knew the medic had deliberately played the ‘cherish the guide’ card, and it had worked.

“OK.  We’ll go,” he huffed, shooting the EMT a sardonic half-grin.  “But I need to speak to Captain Taggart first.  We’ll go later once I can grab a cab--”

“No need for that, Jim!” Joel interjected quickly.  “I’ll be glad to take you both, and we can talk on the way, OK?”

Knowing he’d been well and truly railroaded, and not unduly angered at the realisation, Jim nodded in assent.  “Sure, Joel.  And thanks.  Again.  Your arrival couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“Just pure good luck that I was already on my way to you when that call came in,” Joel responded with a smile.  “Thanks to Blair’s quick actions, the other units were despatched expeditiously.  I only beat them here by minutes.”

“But they all counted, Joel.  We owe you.  And _I_ owe my guide!  Thanks babe,” and he pulled the young man in for another warm hug.

“Well, if you’re going to be leaving for the ER, I’ll be on my way,” the young medic said, a smile on his face.

“I’ll be travelling back with the other gentleman, but again, I doubt he’ll be held overnight.  He’s still conscious.  Just mad as hell...!”  He waved cheerfully as he left them alone in the kitchen, to indulge in a few minutes’ companionable silence and support before setting off in Joel’s sedan for Cascade General.

\--------------------------------------

**Following morning, Cascade PD Major Crimes Unit bullpen:**

It was around mid-morning when Jim and Blair finally arrived in the bullpen, to quite the welcome.  After being checked over at the ER, both men were proclaimed good to go, although Jim had a colourful bruise on his temple around the small dressing which covered three stitches.  Blair had no physical injuries, but was understandably shocky, so both were released with the advice to take it easy for a few hours, and get some sleep.   They had given their statements to Joel while they were there, and he in turn had informed Simon, who arrived post-haste, his urgency belying his customary exacting and reserved attitude towards his people.

Fully apprised of the events of the evening, Simon had handed the case over to Joel and Megan despite Jim’s automatic protest.

“You’re too close, Jim.  I hear you, but there’s no way you can interview those men.  The threat to your guide has to compromise your objectivity, man.  I’m not questioning your professionalism under normal circumstances, but I also know all about your protective instinct as a bonded sentinel.  Shit, Jim, you would have killed Murphy if Blair hadn’t stopped you!  Joel will keep you in the loop, for sure, but you can’t take the lead in this.”

Jim had had no alternative but to back down, but couldn’t help the upsurge of pride he felt on his guide’s behalf when Simon praised the young man, treating him with unexpected compassion.

Telling them firmly to take a few extra hours to themselves, he whirled out of the ER as quickly as he had arrived, growling gruffly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.  When you’re ready, and not before!”

So, here they were, having had a reasonable night’s sleep, with Blair once more seeking the comfort of Jim’s arms in bed.  With his sentinel keeping the nightmares at bay, he awoke feeling far better than he would have believed, ready and eager to accompany Jim to the PD once they’d indulged in a leisurely breakfast.

Almost as soon as the door closed behind them, they were met by a small tidal wave of applause, back-slapping and hearty greetings, with H and Rafe in the vanguard.  Even those who had looked askance at Blair on his first appearance in MCU were now prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt as to his suitability as Jim’s guide after being told of his actions in defence of his sentinel.

Pink-faced and shyly smiling, Blair unashamedly soaked up the positive ‘vibes’ he could feel emanating from those present, allowing the energy to shore up his chronic insecurity against any tough times ahead.  He was further shielded and encouraged by the warm cocoon of love and comfort Jim had wrapped around him, so he was relatively unconcerned this time when Simon’s bellow issued from his open office door.  “Ellison!  Sandburg!  Finally!  My office, now!”

When they entered the office, they found Joel and Megan already there, having just returned from interviewing the two would-be kidnappers.  Both rose to their feet to greet and congratulate the pair, hugging Blair unreservedly.  Joel also patted Jim warmly on the shoulder, and even Megan unbent enough towards him to offer him a grin.  “Glad to see you’re OK too, mate.  Sandy’s something else, isn’t he?”

Although Simon harrumphed impatiently at the impromptu socialising, there was a suspicion of a twinkle in his eyes as he growled, “When you’re quite ready, people!”

Once they were all seated, the atmosphere sobered immediately as Simon got down to business and asked Joel to bring Jim and Blair up to speed on how the interviews had progressed so far.  Taggart’s normally genial expression was grim as he began, his eyes sympathetic when his glance met Blair’s.

“First, Blair, I know you’ll be relieved to hear that Brad Sullivan has regained consciousness.  He has one hell of a bruise on his forehead, and no doubt a headache to match, but that’s nothing compared to his embarrassment at being taken down by an empath with a paperweight.

“Anyhow, although his partner-in-crime, Joseph Murphy, is obstinately closed-mouthed at the moment, that could change once he finds out that Sullivan’s singing like a canary on the back of an offer from the DA for immunity from prosecution and the chance to enter the Witness Protection Programme.

“From what Sullivan’s divulged so far, not only does the human trafficking operation involve high-profile members of Cascade’s business community, but more worryingly some individuals from the political and law enforcement field also.  It won’t be easy to weed out the bad apples, and I know the PD is going to be reeling with bad publicity even the suggestion of deep-seated corruption will stir up, but if we can get to the heart of the intimidation that’s been hamstringing the Task Force, perhaps we’ll finally get to do the job it was set up for.

“So, that’s the story so far, and I’m sure Simon will agree with me when I say that we wouldn’t have discovered even this chink in their armour if it hadn’t been for the two of you.”

Taking up the thread, Simon agreed.  “I know it’s been traumatic for you, Blair, on top of everything else you’ve been through in the last couple of weeks, but it’s a fact that, if it hadn’t been for some slaver’s greed in wanting to kidnap you, none of this would have come to light and we’d still be beating our collective heads against the wall trying to get a break.  Your quick-thinking undoubtedly saved both you and Jim, and as far as I’m concerned, you’ve proved that you have the makings of a worthwhile partnership.

“But don’t let it go to your head, kid,” he added, consciously reasserting his authority.  “I still expect you to get plenty of practical Guide Training, and a thorough grounding in real police work as well as your academic qualifications, so don’t let me down!”

And although Blair still gripped Jim’s hand tightly and glanced up to make sure of his sentinel’s full and fond approval, he met Simon’s searching gaze unwaveringly.  His voice steady and determined, he replied, “I won’t, Captain Banks.  I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to be the guide Jim needs me to be.”

“And that’s all I need to hear, son.  Now, off you go, you two, and get Guide Sandburg’s paperwork started,” and he ushered them out of the office, sure that they were oblivious of the wide smile plastered across his face as he watched their departing backs.

\--------------------------------

**Part 5: Epilogue: The Real Deal:**

**9 Months later, MCU bullpen:**

Sentinel Detective Jim Ellison frowned at the screen in front of him as he laboriously typed up his latest report form.  The pile of correspondence in his ‘in tray’ never seemed to diminish when he was working alone, and he was growing impatient.  Suddenly his face took on a warm smile as he cocked his head in a ‘listening’ pose, and turned to face the bullpen doors.  Across the office, a grinning Megan nudged her partner, her voice a staged whisper as she commented, “Hey, Joel!  Sandy must be on his way!  Jimbo’s gone all sappy-looking!”  Giving her the finger even though his genial smile remained, Jim watched the doors, face brightening even further as a small bundle of energy barrelled through and headed directly for his desk.

Blair almost bounced into his sentinel’s welcoming arms, his own smile wide and uncontrived and an expression of pure adoration on his face.  Completely unfazed when Jim buried his nose in the shiny curls behind his guide’s ear, the two spent a few moments reconnecting and grounding each other.  The sight was so commonplace now that no one in the bullpen, or pretty much the whole PD even gave them a second glance.  Sentinel and guide pairs were no longer figures of myth and mystery, and they were simply accepted – and valued – for the blessing they were.

Eventually loosening their embrace, Blair pushed away slightly and peered around Jim’s imposing bulk, his face taking on a cheeky grin as he murmured, “Oh my!  Looks like you’ve got plenty of paperwork to keep you busy, Jim.  I’ll leave you to it, shall I?  Come back later?” and burst into unrestrained giggles when Jim growled in reply, a furious mock-scowl on his face.

“No way, Guide Sandburg!  This constitutes ‘real police work’, Chief, and I distinctly remember you promising Simon you’d get plenty of practice.  Besides,” he continued, his tone now definitely whining and wheedling, “you type so much quicker than me, babe, so if you help me, we can get to lunch sooner.  On me....”

“How could I refuse, oh Sentinel mine,” chuckled Blair.  “Just as long as it isn’t Wonderburger!” and he dropped his backpack down beside Jim’s desk and pulled the first file towards him.  Grinning widely, Jim returned to his own report, grateful for the reprieve and knowing that he was one lucky SOB to have such a fleet-fingered and talented partner to bail him out.

A short time later, Blair was fairly flying through the pile of forms, an endearing expression of determination and concentration on his attractive face.  Jim paused for a few moments to contemplate his guide and treat himself to some undiluted pleasure, greedily soaking up the input as his senses revelled in the proximity of his beloved young partner.

In the past few months, Blair had certainly changed for the better.  Although he still had a good deal of underlying insecurity, and undoubtedly always would have, he was gradually emerging from his shell, and his inherent happiness and optimism shone through a little more each day.  It gladdened Jim’s heart each time Blair’s spontaneous smile lit his face, on occasion bright enough to dazzle everyone in the empath’s vicinity such that a whole group or roomful of people might suddenly find themselves several degrees happier and more light-hearted than before.

Jim didn’t delude himself that he had had nothing to do with Blair’s rapid development.  He was well aware that he had been unstinting in his support and had encouraged the young empath to flourish and grow into both his natural talent and his confidence.  But it also had a lot to do with the fact that Blair was happy and fulfilled on several fronts.

He was now well into his second term at Rainier, having aced the entrance exam as expected.  Jim hadn’t been the least bit surprised to find that his guide was far brighter than most of his peers, and his intelligence and enthusiasm ensured that he was coping more than adequately with everything he set his mind to.  Sure, it hadn’t been all sweetness and light for Blair.  There was plenty of jealousy, not only because of his academic accomplishments, but also because he was a recognised bonded guide.  However, in the main his gentle nature and willingness to help generally defused most situations, and it certainly didn’t hurt that he had the friendship and support of a well-respected post-grad student.  Because yes, Sam Okundu did turn out to be the first recipient of the Eli Stoddard Anthropology Scholarship, and Blair was so thrilled for him that he had agreed to be Sam’s study subject after all.  And far from being uncomfortable and distracting, Blair found the tests Sam devised for him to be helpful and imaginative, such that Blair’s self-confidence increased every time he succeeded.  And of course, Jim also benefitted as his guide used his new skills to improve their performance and teamwork.

Watching approvingly as Blair tossed another completed file onto the growing pile in the ‘out tray’, Jim pondered on how his own job satisfaction and results now bettered anything that he would ever have considered possible even a year ago.   Blair had been as good as his word, and had studied police procedures and essential clerical and research duties avidly.  Quick and thorough, he had taken charge of that side of their teamwork, often using his brilliant and unconventional thought processes to think ‘outside the box’ during investigations, and more than a few times had provided the final clue to solving a case.  Although still not allowed to accompany Jim in the field on a regular basis, the fact that he spent at least part of the day in the MCU meant that Jim was able to continue to use his senses to a certain degree, knowing that his guide would be there to ground him when he returned to the office.  On the occasions when Blair was required to accompany him to a crime scene, Jim’s results were remarkable, as he could let his senses roam at will, secure in the grounding presence of his guide.

Of course, things weren’t all plain sailing in the PD either, despite Jim and Blair’s successes.  The investigation into the human trafficking problem was ongoing due to the power and influence of many of the people involved.  At a local level, both Mayor Anderson and Commissioner O’Malley had been indicted, with predictably sensational results.  The tabloid press had had a field day with the feeding frenzy the scandal provoked, and the PD and local government’s reputations did not go untarnished.  However, the newly-elected Mayor was a woman of unquestionable integrity, who had no problem with getting to the root of the corruption existing in and around her office, and the new Police Commissioner was a man after Chief Warren’s own heart.  Between them they had shaken up the department, and a surprisingly large number of ‘bad apples’ had fallen from the tree.  Since the FBI was also forced to put its house in order, SAC Greenwood suddenly disappeared from the Cascade Field Office, and there was a noticeable resurgence in informants once more willing to work with the Task Force.

Unfortunately, there was one key player who had managed to escape the net thus far, as Leon DuRoy had wasted no time in removing himself and his family from Cascade.  As soon as his plot to kidnap Blair had failed, he boarded his private Lear Jet at his private airstrip and left for parts unknown, although it was believed that he would probably be holed up comfortably enough in some accommodating South American country.  And if he never re-emerged from his bolt-hole, Jim would be a very happy sentinel, although he wasn’t naive enough to rely on that possibility.

Needless to say, Dmitri Roscov had decided against choosing Cascade as the destination for his latest delivery, and unfortunately the Task Force was no nearer pinning down the source of the international operation, but at least they had some satisfaction in shutting down their particular outlet for black market guides and slaves, so hopefully Cascade would remain off the smugglers’ list of preferred locations for some time to come.

A sudden mental ‘tug’ broke his concentration and pulled him out of his introspection to see Blair gazing at him, head tilted slightly to one side and a wry half-smile on his face.  “Um, I’ve finished, Sentinel Detective Ellison, sir,” he murmured in a sing-song tone, eyebrows wiggling comically as he continued.  “I thought you were going to take me to lunch?” and he sent Jim one of his best pleading puppy-dog looks.

“Cheeky young scallywag!” Jim responded in a truly awful attempt at an upper-class British accent, which sent Blair off into peals of laughter.   Reaching out, Jim ruffled Blair’s curls, and pulled him in for a one-armed hug.

“Come on then, Junior.  Let’s get out of here before Simon finds us something else to do.  Thai sound OK to you?” and at Blair’s eager nod, they collected their jackets and left the bullpen, laughing and joshing as was their habit.

\------------------------------

When the pair reached the parking garage level, Jim saw that Blair had parked Eli’s – now his – Prius next to Jim’s elderly jeep.  “We’ll take mine, shall we?” he said, knowing that his legs wouldn’t appreciate being squashed into the smaller car. 

Blair grinned knowingly at him, saying “I know, I know!  You just don’t trust my driving,” to which Jim replied, “Sure I do, Chief.  It’s just that your car was designed with midgets in mind!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Blair disbelievingly, although the quirky grin he shot Jim belied his words.  Truth be told, Blair had turned out to be a very good driver, and had managed to pass his test during the Christmas break, although it still amazed Jim how he managed to squeeze driving practice in amongst his course work, his duties at the PD and his Guide Training programme.

Without further demur, Blair climbed into the Jeep’s passenger seat and buckled up.  Then he looked over at Jim, an expression of love and a touch of wistful longing on his face.  “It’s a pity we can’t go to the loft.  We could have had lunch there.”

“Yeah, I know, kiddo.  But it wasn’t really practical to keep up two places whatever we told Simon.  And Megs needed to find a new apartment to rent, so it was the best solution all round.  And we’re more than comfy at your - _our_ \- place, after all!”

“Yeah, that’s true.  I thought it would never feel the same after Eli died, but it feels like home for me now.  As long as you’re there to share it with me,” and Blair reached over to squeeze Jim’s knee, eyes now slightly misty with emotion.

Covering the smaller hand with his own, Jim smiled gently over at his beautiful partner, untroubled at admitting to his own feelings.

“And I’ll always be there for you – and with you – love.   Sentinel and Guide for life, OK?  Now, let’s get to The Golden Palace.  I feel crab cakes and Pad Thai noodles calling to me...!”

\----------------------------

**That evening, Blair and Jim’s home:**

Snuggled together in the library in front of a glowing log fire, Blair moved a little to peer up at Jim’s relaxed and contented face.  Aware of his guide’s scrutiny, Jim opened one eye and grinned lazily.  “Go ahead and ask me, babe.  I’m pretty sure I know what you’re thinking.”

Blair blushed a little with pleasure, the fact that Jim could read him so well a source of security and reassurance rather than indignation.  However, he couldn’t quite keep a note of worry out of his voice when he spoke up.

“Um, I just wondered, do you think Simon’s really OK with it?  I mean, I know it’s early days, but I’m sure he’d have noticed even if we hadn’t told him.”

Jim’s grin widened as he squeezed Blair a little tighter to him.  “I’m sure he’s OK, babe.  And he certainly would have noticed the changes in our behaviour soon enough.  That’s why they pay him the big bucks as Captain.  He would have been pretty pissed off if we hadn’t given him the heads up first, though.  He likes to keep on top of things.  As do I,” and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.   Blair snickered as his blush deepened most fetchingly.

Because the ‘ _it’_ that they were discussing was the full bond, and Jim couldn’t help but relive the momentous occasion as he cuddled Blair close, the smaller man relaxing bonelessly once again against his side.

\-------------------------------------

Less than three weeks ago it had been Blair’s 18th birthday, and he had known for some time what he really wanted as a present from Jim, although he was too shy to ask for it.  He had always known that as a sentinel, Jim dearly cherished the hope that they would eventually bond fully, and he was also well aware that the older man found him attractive, but the honourable man in Jim would never push him before he was ready and willing.  The fact that Blair had lived such a sheltered existence meant that he had had no practical experience of even dating, let alone sexual activity except within his vivid imagination, and he was convinced that his timid and doubtless clumsy virginity would be a major turn-off for his buff and gorgeous sentinel.

However, after having thoroughly enjoyed a surprise party thrown for him in the Major Crimes conference room, he had plucked up the courage to make his case with Jim when they were settled together in front of the fire that night, just as they were this evening.

“Uh, Jim?  I uh, I just wanted to say thank you so much for the party.  I’ve never had one before, even when I was a kid in Leipzig.  It was great, really.  And so nice for everyone to get me presents.  It meant a lot to me.  And your present, well, it was mind-blowing, man!  I mean, although I’ve used Eli’s computer a lot, I’ve never had a tablet for my own use.  I love it!  It’s easily as good as any of the ones I’ve seen the other kids using at Rainier.

“But there is something I would like, more of a shared present, if you know what I mean...” and his voice had tailed off into embarrassed silence as his anxiety got the better of him once again.

Turning his guide carefully to face him, Jim raised up the downcast face with a gentle finger under Blair’s chin.  His face and eyes held nothing but comfort and reassurance as he said softly, “It’s OK, little one.  You can ask me anything, you know that.  I think – hope – I know what you’re getting at, so don’t be afraid, babe.  Tell me what you want,” and he mentally crossed his fingers and prayed to any and every god he’d ever heard of that his own hopes and dreams were about to be answered too.

“Um, if...if it’s OK with you, Jim, I’d like to bond with you.  Properly.  The real deal.  I mean, I love what we have already, but I think you want more.  I know I do.  And I’m ready, Jim.  If you want me, I’m yours.  Forever.”  He met Jim’s ardent gaze with a nervous but determined one of his own, unaware for the moment that his fervent declaration had rendered Jim momentarily speechless; in awe of his guide’s courage and love.

Pulling the slender body in for a warm hug, Jim rocked him silently for a while as he worked past the lump of emotion blocking the words in his throat.  Long moments later, knowing that Blair might well interpret Jim’s prolonged silence as a form of rejection in his fragile emotional state, Jim pulled himself together and gently held Blair away from him, looking intently into the empath’s wide but rather worried blue gaze.  His own eyes were more than a little misty with unshed tears of gratitude and appreciation for his soon-to-be-lover’s precious gift, and he cupped the beloved face in gentle palms as he murmured, “I shall be honoured, Blair Sandburg, if you would be my guide and partner in all things.”  And they came together again, cuddling close for long minutes until Jim stood, and taking Blair’s hand, led his shy but eager partner upstairs to his bed.

\-------------------------------------

Settling Blair even more comfortably against his side, Jim’s smile became soft and dreamy as he reminisced about their lovemaking that night, knowing, through their enhanced link, that his guide was having similar thoughts.  And the fact that the pheromones Blair was releasing were increasing exponentially led Jim to conclude that they would be reaffirming that bond very soon.

When Jim had led Blair upstairs that night, he had paused for a moment, wondering which bedroom to use, since he wanted to put the young man at ease as much as possible.  “Which room, baby?  Would you prefer to be in your room?”  And Blair had shaken his head.  “No, Jim.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to be in your bed.  It seems right, somehow, that I should be in your territory.”

Nodding his agreement, he had continued into his room, and there had carefully undressed his guide down to his boxers.  Despite his nervousness, Blair hadn’t demurred when Jim tacitly requested that the young man allow him to strip him completely.  And when he had done so, Jim stood back for a moment, overcome by the beauty of the slender but perfectly proportioned figure revealed fully to him for the first time in all its glory.  However, he didn’t labour the point, seeing Blair tremble a little with both apprehension and the evening’s chill, so he had quickly pulled back the covers and laid the young man tenderly down in the middle of the bed.

While Blair looked on, he swiftly stripped off his own clothes, and climbed in, gently reaching out to cuddle Blair against him, the action both warming and settling the smaller man.  As soon as he felt Blair relax and heard the rapid heart rate slowing somewhat, he pulled back, and with Blair’s shyly-offered permission, began to thoroughly imprint his guide, allowing his senses free rein as he touched, sniffed, listened to and gazed upon the beloved body without any barrier between them.  And when Blair opened eagerly to him, he kissed his guide deeply, revelling in the taste and texture of the moist cavern of Blair’s mouth, wanting to immerse himself in the addictive flavours.  It was only when breathing became a necessity for them both that they broke apart, and Jim was gratified to see the wonder and pleasure suffusing the young face.  His tone almost reverent, he murmured softly, “You are so beautiful, baby.  So young, but so alluring.  Can I touch you – prepare you?”

And Blair had nodded; his determination undiminished by the sweetly bashful blush tingeing his cheeks.

Jim had taken him at his word, and spent long minutes stretching his mate with exquisite care, sentinel touch delicate but sure as he was determined to make their joining as painless as possible for his virgin lover.  And when the moment had arrived, they had climaxed within seconds of each other, and the merging of their souls and bodies was total and wondrous, and greater than either of them could ever have imagined.

In the lazy aftermath, with their newly enhanced mental bond linking them as one, and their physical pleasure in each other a source of comfort and delight, Jim had smiled into his guide’s beautiful eyes and murmured softly, “Happy Birthday, Blair.  Mine.  My Guide.  Always.”  To which Blair had replied, “Thank you, Jim.  For everything.  And for the best birthday present I could ever have.  Yours, always.”  And he had promptly fallen asleep, secure in Jim’s powerful arms.

\---------------------------------

Back in the present, Jim felt his guide stir against his side.  Still tending towards diffidence, yet Blair was growing in confidence, enough now to feel able to fix his sentinel with a sultry smile and to whisper seductively, “I don’t know about you, Jim, but I’d really like to go to bed now.  Bond with me, My Sentinel?  Please?”

And moving now with considerable alacrity, Jim was more than happy to oblige.

\--------------------------------

**Following morning, Jim and Blair’s bedroom:**

Waking before the alarm, thanks to a long-held habit developed in his military days, Jim took several leisurely minutes to study the warm lump of Blair-guide draped comfortably over his body.  Grinning fondly, he luxuriated in the warm after-glow of their bonding, contemplating the smaller man, who was unconsciously rubbing his cheek, nuzzling kitten-like against Jim’s broad chest. 

Blair was indeed the best thing that had ever happened to him, and his heart swelled with love and gratitude as he thanked whatever Fate had brought them together.  Although he still had the occasional pang of disquiet that he might have deprived Blair of a different path in life, his guide always disabused him of the notion, adamantly declaring that it was what he was meant to do, and that he was only too grateful for the opportunity to fulfil his destiny.  And if Jim still wasn’t entirely convinced by his lover’s honeyed words, their shared mental bond hammered the point home.

Even in the dawn’s early light, Jim was able to scan their room minutely, dialling his sentinel sight up with consummate ease.  They now shared the master suite, having agreed by mutual consent after their bonding that it was right for them.  They had redecorated and rearranged it to suit themselves, and Jim recalled how, when he was carefully packing away the last few of Eli’s personal possessions for storage, Blair had smiled a little wistfully before saying that he believed that it was what Eli would have wanted.  And when Jim fancied that he occasionally felt the tiniest whisper of a benign presence in the room, he merely sent a few words of heart-felt gratitude to the shade for the precious bundle in his arms.

Smiling fondly down at the curly head under his chin, Jim began his usual ‘wake-up’ routine for his deeply-slumbering partner.  For someone who seemed to exude pure energy during his waking hours, Blair was not a ‘morning person’ by any stretch of the imagination, so Jim had gradually perfected the best – and most satisfying – method of doing it.  Cupping his guide’s very fine ass in one hand, he stroked the smooth skin of Blair’s back with the other, until he detected the first signs of rousing in the young man.  This morning, Blair slid languorously upwards, his gradually spreading growth of chest hair a delight to Jim as the soft mat tickled his own muscled but hairless torso.  Sleepy blue eyes and a lazy smile were directed at him as Blair moved up to drop a kiss on his chin, but Jim noted the tiny wince the movement elicited.  Immediately concerned, Jim asked, “Are you OK, baby?  I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”  But Blair responded quickly, his smile wider and unworried.

“Only in the nicest possible way, Jim.  Don’t worry – I feel great!” and his guide’s sultry gaze and the reassurance he felt through their shared link put Jim’s mind at ease once again.

As Blair settled down again to enjoy a last few moments of comfort, the rumbling of soft laughter deep in the broad chest beneath his ear caused him to look up again, a quizzical eyebrow cocked as he regarded Jim’s amused grin.

“It’s OK, babe,” Jim murmured, gently ruffling Blair’s curls.  “I was just thinking about what you said last night.  You know, about whether Simon was really OK with us – with the full bond?  And I have to say that I’m certain he is.  After all, it was only a few months ago when he said to you that he thought we had the makings of a worthwhile partnership, and that he expected you to work towards that goal.  So I think he should be well pleased with what we have now, don’t you think?”

And Blair contemplated him for a moment before replying, smile now as bright as the sun as he wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck.  “I think you’re right, My Sentinel.  And it is.  Worth every minute!”

**The End.**


End file.
